


Copper on Cream

by BellaDuveen



Category: Dad's Army
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaDuveen/pseuds/BellaDuveen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at what happened after Sylvia and Pike brought the car back...can a potential relationship be saved from a shaky start? Story follows on directly from the episode, and may get...sexier in time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

'And if your Dad was 'ere today…'

Sylvia glared down at the pavement. Her Uncle Bill hadn't stopped ranting all the way home, and the worst of it was, she hadn't even done what he was going on about. She was annoyed at the simple injustice of it all, but there was something else that was unfair about it, that she couldn't really put her finger on just now.

'…and you're not going back to Catterick,' he continued, as they reached her mother's house. 'Not if that's the kind of behaviour you're picking up! I said this would 'appen, young girls off on their own with a load of men!'

'I got to go back,' she replied wearily. He knew that. This really wasn't what she needed right now.

As soon as they stepped through the door however, Hodges felt himself shoved into the umbrella stand by Sylvia's mother, who pulled her daughter into a hug that felt like she'd never let go.

'Oh Sylvia, what on Earth happened to you?' she cried. 'The Police have been here and everything – there could have been a raid on, or a prowler – do you remember a while back when women thought they were being followed along the Prom?'

'I'll tell you what happened to her!' Hodges jumped in. 'She was out all night with Mavis Pike's boy!'

Ada Hodges loosened her hold slightly. 'Sylvia?' she asked. 'Is that true?'

'Nothing happened, Mum,' Sylvia said, wanting nothing more than to be in bed and forget the whole thing.

'But you was gone all night! Even he must've worked it out in that time!' Hodges was working himself up again. She was not having his kid – she couldn't!

'It didn't,' Sylvia repeated, anger colouring her words now. 'We went to the Pictures in Eastgate, he said he was in charge of this car, so we took it, and on the way back it ran out of petrol. That's it!'

'So…you?' Ada was still confused.

'It took all night to get it home,' Sylvia said, flicking her eyes between the two of them. If Uncle Bill had listened to a word she'd been saying, he'd know that by now. 'And I just want to go to bed,' she finished, suddenly feeling quite tearful.

Ada took a good look at her daughter, and then looked over at her near apoplectic brother in law.

'Right. Sylvia, you go to bed. And Bill, you're going to go home, and let my girl get some sleep.'

Hodges wasn't a man to back down, but Ada had married his brother, and as such, was no pushover.

'But what about 'im?' he managed. 'He hasn't heard the last of this!'

'I daresay…' Ada replied, folding her arms. Never a good sign. '…but my Sylvia says nothing went on, and I believe her. Don't you think that's the sort of thing a mother would know?'

Hodges conceded the point, even if he still wasn't happy about it. As he left the house, both he and his sister in law hoped to God they were right. Ada turned away from the door and started to make her way upstairs. She had questions of her own, but they could wait. They both needed their sleep.

It was late in the afternoon before Sylvia woke up. As she remembered why she was there, she groaned and turned over. Oh yeah…the whole town probably thought she was no better than she should be, and there was absolutely no reason for them to…no reason at all…she reflected bitterly. And he didn't like her…certainly not now…She wrapped her arms around her pillow at that, and felt a stab of disappointment and hurt that had nothing to do with gossip about her reputation.

It was strange, Sylvia thought, that she'd noticed him. The boys on camp weren't like him – well, they could come up with some rubbish to impress the girls like he had…She smiled at that. She hadn't believed that Secret Service stuff for a minute, but it had been sweet that he was trying to get her attention. And it worked. Since she'd caught sight of him earlier, she'd been interested, and when she ran into him again, just so giddy any time she was near him. So she'd tried everything she could – Elsie and Jean said it worked for them – but it didn't. And then she'd said those things. She hadn't meant them, but she was tired and upset and not thinking straight, and wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to speak to her again.

Yeah…she could understand it, but that didn't mean she was happy about it, and couldn't stop the hot, angry tears any more as she remembered the details of what she'd done. He wouldn't speak to her again…and that hurt more than she wanted to admit. You couldn't fall for someone that quickly, could you?

There was a knock at her door then. Sylvia hurriedly dried her eyes, and sat up slowly, uncertain what was to come.

'Sylvia? Are you up, love?' It was her mother. 'I've got you a cup of tea.'

'Oh, thanks Mum,' she said, taking it gratefully.

Ada sat herself down on her daughter's bed, and was quiet for a moment as she sipped at her drink.

'There. I'll bet that's better,' smiled Ada. 'Now you've had your sleep.'

'Yeah…' Sylvia paused. 'Mum? What are people going to say about me?'

'Don't you worry about that,' Ada replied briskly. 'They don't have any reason to say such things.'

The unspoken question 'Have they?' hung in the air.

'No.' Sylvia answered it, her eyes meeting her mother's and then looking away. 'Mum?'

Ada looked up.

'He didn't even kiss me. I don't think he even really liked me.' Her admission was quiet, disappointed.

Inwardly, Ada breathed a sigh of relief.

'Well, that sounds like he's a decent boy to me then, brought up right. There's plenty who'd take what they could in that situation, and leave you high and dry,' she said, by way of comfort.

'I know.' Sylvia took another sip of her tea. 'But…he was nice…' There. She'd said it.

Ada nodded slowly. So that was what it was…

'I know. He got you home safe as best he could, and sounds to me like he was either being respectful or you got him in such a state he didn't know what to do with himself, or both.'

'You think he liked me?' It didn't seem possible now.

'Well, I think you ought to find out.'

'How? What if he doesn't want to talk to me? I wasn't…very nice, later on…'

Ada shifted position slightly. 'We all say things in the heat of the moment. Doesn't mean we mean them. Now, why don't I go and see him tomorrow, he works at the bank in the High Street, and let him know you'll meet him lunchtime?'

Sylvia smiled, and blushed. 'He'll say no.'

'Maybe, maybe not. If you don't ask, you don't get. The Marigold Tea Rooms is nice…oh, and wear your best dress, not that dreadful uniform, how they have women wear that I don't know, and we'll see…'


	2. Chapter 2

Leaning on the counter (like he wasn't meant to), Pike screwed his nose up slightly and tried once again to make sense of everything that had happened over the past couple of days. He'd been too tired really, to take in much of what his Uncle had said in the car when they'd been on the exercise, and then of course the flares had gone off, but it had only been later the previous evening that he'd really understood what he meant. Far from clearing things up, that just made it more confusing.

There were things you didn't do with a 'nice girl'…at least not without a ring on her finger…and even though Sylvia hadn't acted like a particularly nice girl that night, he couldn't really believe that she wasn't – not really. And he didn't want people thinking badly of her. Even if she had (so it seemed) wanted that stuff…maybe what made it different was that she'd wanted it from him…that had never happened before. Adoring a girl without really knowing her – he knew what that was like, but if he was honest, they hadn't adored him. But maybe she had…Even though things hadn't gone well; he couldn't stop thinking of her. Not that it mattered now. She didn't like him any more – not after what she said, and she'd probably be back on the train up to Catterick to meet someone else in the 'proper Army' any day now.

Pike imagined who she'd meet up there, and hated him. He was still thinking about it when a stout, middle aged lady with thick red curls under her hat came in. Making the effort to remember his training, he dragged his thoughts back to normal concerns, and greeted her properly.

'Good morning, Madam.'

'Good morning, dear,' she replied. 'Would you be able to cash me a small cheque?'

He did as she asked, but as he handed the money over, the lady caught his eye.

'Aren't you Mavis's boy?'

'Um…yes, Madam?' he answered, confused.

'Good. I'm Mrs Hodges, Sylvia's mother…'

At that, Pike panicked slightly. 'Nothing happened, Mrs Hodges!' he said, doing his best to convince her. 'It really didn't!'

'I know, I know,' Ada waved his concerns away. 'Sylvia told me all about it. And she said to say she'll be in the Marigold Tea Rooms at twelve if you'd like to meet her for lunch.'

'What – really?' This was the last thing he'd expected.

'That's right. She said as she feels sorry about what happened and wanted a chat before she goes back,' Ada finished, tucking her purse away and turning to leave. 'So, shall I say you'll see her?'

'Uh, yeah…' Pike replied, wondering why she wanted to see him and unmistakably pleased that she did – even now.

'Good, I'll let her know. Goodbye dear.' With that, Ada bustled off, leaving him to his thoughts.

It had been a long morning for both of them. Shortly before twelve, Pike had a chance to tell Wilson what had happened, and had been given some money for Sylvia's lunch, and sent off with some encouragement that maybe, things would be all right. He had to tell him that nothing happened between them though…his Uncle was still convinced that it did. If he had, maybe he wouldn't have had that lecture from Mr Mainwaring earlier that morning about not bringing the good name of the Bank into disrepute too, but he probably still would.

Feeling rather nervous, Pike settled himself at one of the pretty lace covered tables, snatched his hat off and fiddled with his jacket and tie. He really wasn't sure what to expect. A couple of minutes past twelve, he glanced up and for a moment, felt his breath catch. There she was. Not like he last saw her though…Today, Sylvia was wearing a rather well fitted floral printed dress, open at the neck, with a light cardigan pulled slightly tight across her chest and no doubt precious, saved for a special occasion, sheer stockings and heels. A little red hat was perched on top of her head, and matched her bright lipstick. Obviously he'd known she was anyway, but…suddenly she looked so much more…like a girl…All those…bits…of her he'd been aware of before were that much more apparent, and he couldn't help but blush.

Coming in, Sylvia almost hadn't recognised Pike to begin with, and then felt a sudden jolt in her stomach when she did. He looked so much smarter in his work suit, a little older, with jet black hair stuck down with far too much Brylcreem, and she couldn't help but wonder what it looked like messed up…Banging her leg on a chair on the way over, she steadied herself on the one opposite him and, a nervous smile on her face, said 'Hello.'

'Hello.' She made him smile, too. He should really still be annoyed with her, but… 'Won't you sit down?'

She did so, slightly heavily, as if her legs suddenly weren't too steady, and darted little glances up at him under her eyelashes.

'Um…Frank?' she began, fiddling with her hat. 'I'm sorry – for what I said.'

'Well, yeah…' It was quite hard not to just forgive her on the spot. 'It was rotten.' She needed to know that, though.

'Yeah…I didn't mean it.'

'No, well…OK, but…don't say stuff like that again.'

'I won't.' He probably hadn't meant it that way, but there was just a hint of a bossy streak to his words like Sylvia quite liked, in a funny sort of way.

'Good…' Needing something to distract his attention from her dark brown eyes, Pike handed Sylvia the menu. 'Would you like some lunch? It's a pity it's not Tuesday, 'cause Tuesday's the day they have rock cakes, or coffee?'

'I like rock cakes,' she smiled, relieved that her apology seemed to be accepted. 'Maybe I'll have to come back on a Tuesday sometime?'

'Yeah!' Did that sound too keen? 'What about Fish and Chips? Do you like Fish and Chips?'

Sylvia nodded. 'Love 'em!'

'There's a nice place down by the seafront…' He hesitated slightly then. Was this asking her out? 'We could go there too, next time, if you like?'

'OK…' She was blushing now, too. 'So…you don't mind taking me out again?'

'No,' he admitted, staring down at the menu shyly. His confession made her heart race, and she felt quite breathless at the thought, and more – vulnerable – than she was used to. Usually, flirting with the boys on camp was a bit of fun, nothing more, and they had a laugh about it in the hut afterwards. This was more than that, and she got the feeling in that moment that they both realised it. It wasn't love, not yet, but it wouldn't take much that it could be.

'All right,' she smiled, unconsciously tracing the pattern of the flowers on the tablecloth. 'Next leave I get…'

They ordered their coffees, and the rather meagre sandwiches that was all the café could provide.

'When do you have to go back?' He didn't want to her to go.

'Tomorrow on the 8.21.' It had certainly been an – unexpected – weekend.

'Can I write to you?' The request was sudden. He couldn't just let her leave.

'Yeah…if you like…' Her slight lip bite and the look she flashed him betrayed her supposed nonchalance.

Taking down her details, Pike didn't even bother to appear anything other than overjoyed. Such a distracted mood would no doubt get him into trouble later, but right now, that really didn't matter. He was going to see her again…

Sylvia kept her dress on all day, enjoying the now unusual sensation of feeling feminine. There wasn't much opportunity for that in an RLC Motor Transport Pool. Still, she had to go back, and packed her kit up that evening, ready to go. It would be a long journey back up from the south coast, and train times were often unpredictable these days, so she had every intention of getting an early night. Once in her room, she sat down on her bed, crinkling the worn pink candlewick that had been there since she was a little girl, and worked her buttons free. She pulled the pale green cardigan from her shoulders, and arranged it neatly on the back of the chair opposite. As her hand moved to unbutton her dress, one finger anchoring itself at the deep V at her neck, she couldn't stop thinking about all that had happened since she'd been back.

Did she have a boyfriend now? It's not the sort of thing you should ask, not before he says it himself, she told herself, but she was certainly thinking of him.

The buttons came loose, down to her belt. She pulled at the buckle and stood up to let the dress fall to the floor, before hanging it in pride of place. Crossing back over to the bed, Sylvia leaned back against the pillows, her gaze wandering down to her breasts, tightly held in a substantial bra with integral girdle, and, almost unthinkingly, started to run a finger over the thick material. As she followed the pattern over the curve of her breast, her breathing changed, just a little, as she remembered how he'd looked at her when she came in…as if he'd like to know, one day, how she looked right now.

The thought was enough to make her hand slide further, over the stubborn restraint of her girdle, down to the belt that held her precious stockings in place. Gently, she raised one knee, so her fingertips could trace down to the sheer fabric, warm from her skin, over her thigh. She smiled then, half guilty, half not. She'd done that to him, hadn't she? And it felt good…was there anything else she'd done to him, doing that? 

Her breathing heavier now, Sylvia sat up to release the myriad of clips and fastenings that held her in place, wriggling herself free. The cool air touched her newly naked breasts, and, dropping garments to the floor, Sylvia felt they needed her attention again. A couple of fingers, and then her whole hand ran over them, making her moan and squirm slightly.

A lovely smile…nice hair…looking so much smarter and more grown up…Images of their meeting that day came back to her in snatches, their effect on her making itself known. Her hand was getting lower again. You couldn't get away with anything, in a draughty Nissen hut with thirteen other girls, and it struck Sylvia that could be much more of a problem over the next…however long it was…It wasn't now, though. Not if she was quiet…not that a nice girl was even meant to know, but she couldn't help it. He'd done this to her…did she do it to him?

Unclipping her stockings and belt, Sylvia pulled the covers over herself and turned out the light. Silly, in a way, that she should be self-conscious of seeing herself completely naked when…she did it, but it wasn't going to stop her. Pulling her remaining garment down her thighs, she let it get lost among the blankets and her fingers dip into the thatch of copper curls on the creamy coloured skin so recently exposed. It had been an accident, really, that she'd even noticed there was anything there – no-one ever told her, but there, among warm, wet flesh hidden in the most mysterious part of her, was a sort of 'button'. And that button needed her. To be more accurate, it needed him.

Conscious of her mother downstairs, Sylvia was as quiet as possible, but couldn't restrain every little moan and gasp as she rubbed harder, explored deeper. She shook as the warm well that had built up inside her threatened to overflow, and hurriedly shoved a tablecloth under her. Her breath was coming fast now, in rapid, shallow shots, as her release possessed her, powerful in its intensity.

Some minutes passed. The room was silent as her breathing slowed, and she closed her eyes.

What had this man done to her?


	3. Chapter 3

Making the training film had gone wrong - very wrong - a fact brought home to Captain Mainwaring some weeks ago the Monday after at half past ten. The worst of it was the Brigadier didn't think the best thing to do in the circumstances was to pretend the whole disaster had never happened. Far from it. It was to still to be made – under proper supervision this time, that didn't result in half the country on Invasion alert – none of which was what Mainwaring wanted to hear. He was even less pleased to hear that someone higher up still had decided it would be appropriate to include a couple of extra scenes too, to 'give a better picture of who you chaps are up against…'

Pike however, couldn't be happier that Mr Forster was back again, and especially so when told the War Office would like to start the film in a Berlin Operations Room, proving that, in spite of all Hitler's careful planning, the plucky Brits in the Home Guard would still win through, '…and all's right with the world,' finished Mr Forster, as he explained the new concept to the platoon.

'You blokes even got some lines,' he said then, looking over at Wilson and Pike.

'Oh really?' Wilson sounded rather amused by the whole thing. 'Well, I was in a play once at school you know…'

'Wilson,' Mainwaring wasn't in the mood for another tale of his Sergeant's stellar education. 'I'm sure Mr Forster has other things to be getting on with…anyway, anyone could play a German – you just play a nasty foreign person.'

Pike wasn't really listening to this exchange now – he knew, like he knew his own name, that this was the role he was born to play. Given his probable Oscar winning performance last time, this film would be seen by someone, who, after the war, would be in Hollywood, and he'd remember him, and he'd be just perfect for his new film…He'd be a star, with his autograph outside the Chinese Theatre right next to the beautiful Joan Blondell's, and then he'd marry her…

'Pike!' Mainwaring's tone of irritation, never too far from the surface around him, broke into his daydream with an unwelcome dose of reality. 'Rifle cleaning – now!'

He hadn't expected to be writing to a real girl a mere few weeks later though, and looked down at his letter with a smile.

'And then their dragon fought our dragon and we won!' he read, thinking back to the St George's Day Spitfire Drive. It had been funny to have a better dragon than the Wardens…but maybe she wouldn't think that, given that her Uncle was in charge…He considered it briefly, then shrugged. It was only Hodges, and anyway, he'd been even worse than usual since the car incident.

Not that that was anything new – it had always been that way, ever since he could remember. In fact, that was one of Pike's earliest memories.

December 1926…he was four years old, and meant to be going to bed…

'So, if I'm really, really good…' the little boy persisted, clambering up into the man's lap, crushing his magazine in the process, '…I'll get a train set! Mum said I would! Will I get a train set, Uncle Arthur?'

'Please, Frank…Look,' Wilson admonished him mildly, indicating the crumpled magazine. 'I'm sure you will, but you really ought to be in bed…'

Reflected in the Christmas lights, Pike noticed his Uncle looked a bit sad, and fixed him with a puzzled stare. It was nearly Christmas – why would anyone look sad? He had no way of knowing, of course, that he was thinking of the other child that should have been there, a little blonde girl, just a year older…Wilson hoped she'd like the dolly that Father Christmas would bring… 

'But I don't want to…' He forgot any concerns he had for his Uncle's well-being, far more eager to negotiate just five minutes longer at bedtime, and would have done, if there hadn't been a sudden knock at the door. He heard his mother go to open it, then there was some sort of argument, and then he was promptly sat on the floor as his Uncle went to see what was happening, telling him to stay there. He didn't, and followed him out into the hallway.

'…and I'm saying the rent's due now…' said the younger version of Hodges. 'Unless you'd like to come to some arrangement…?' 

'Mr Hodges?' Wilson had said then. 'I think you'd better leave.' There was a note in his voice Pike hadn't heard before, and he noticed how it made his mother rush over to him. Not wanting to be left out, he ran over too, and wrapped his arms round his Uncle Arthur's legs, glaring at the man who'd made his Mum upset. Catching sight of him, Hodges glared back, muttered something, and left. 

Anyway, Pike decided, he didn't care what he thought. He cared about what his niece thought though, and wondered if he should ask what he'd wanted to ask for a while now, but couldn't. Not in a letter…it could be weeks before he knew what she said...

Later that month, that letter arrived at Catterick, where it was eagerly received by Sylvia. She read it and re-read it, only locking it away at the last possible moment.

'Come on Sylvia!' Jean said to her then. 'We've got to get over to the cinema – we've got that film on today!'

'Yeah!' agreed Elsie, laughing as she quoted the title. ''Civil Defence and the Invader'! That's men my Dad's age…what good are they against real soldiers?'

Sylvia smiled, but didn't actually agree. A month ago, she would have done. They weren't all old…

The girls of 3 Section, RLC Catterick, were marched down to the Camp's cinema by their formidable Sergeant, a woman who they still weren't sure was completely female, and sat on the opposite side from the boys. There was to be no fraternising on her watch.

'Ladies Section present and correct, Sir,' Sergeant Dobbs barked as Major Taylor arrived.

'Thank you, Sergeant,' he replied, taking to the small stage before the screen.

'Properly at ease, everyone. Now, this film is intended to demonstrate the current capability of Britain's Civil Defence forces in the event of Invasion, and how we can integrate our efforts…'

The lights went down, and, as usual, the first sight of the words 'Crown Film Unit' were enough to make Sylvia start to feel slightly drowsy. She was a little surprised, however, when the opening shot was clearly meant to be some German bunker, with flags and maps everywhere, and then her jaw dropped. Her eyes seemed to go huge and the edges of her vision went starry at the same time as a sudden heat flushed her cheeks. That was him! What on Earth…?

Her Frank (for all that she wasn't sure he was), was strutting around the large map table depicting the East Coast like he owned it, sounding utterly convinced of his plans to invade on the next favourable tide, and (to her at least) utterly convincing. She'd never seen him look so…well…in charge…and she couldn't take her eyes off him. It was all she could do to keep her breathing normal and steady. Part of her knew it was…wrong…to think about the enemy like that…they were trained killers who'd shoot her boy on sight, but it wasn't them, not really, and that part was largely being ignored in favour of the side that wanted to lean on the seat in front and watch him all day.

'You all right, Sylvia?' Jean asked afterwards. 'You look a bit hot…'

'Oh…yeah…fine,' she replied, still somewhat distracted. That 48 pass couldn't have come at a better time…

The journey back was awful. All the way down, the train was subject to unexplained delays, and it was late when Sylvia eventually arrived home. She hadn't been able to forget that film either, and played it back constantly in her head, and if there was something the matter with her, that it should be on her mind so much? To make matters worse, she'd not long fallen into bed when she was woken by the eerie rising wail of the siren. Hurriedly, slightly groggy from her long day, Sylvia collected her things together and followed her mother out to the Shelter, looking to the sky.

As the two women curled up on the narrow bunks, salvaged blankets pulled tight against the night air, far off crashes could be heard in the distance alongside the barrage of anti-aircraft fire. Her eyes open in spite of her exhaustion, Sylvia reflected that it didn't matter how much you told yourself you were getting used to it – you never did. They could die tonight…he could die tonight…

He was probably out in it too, somewhere, she thought, just before the strain of the day finally caught up with her and she fell into a disturbed sleep…

She wasn't in England. There were signs in a language she couldn't read, and papers in her pocket that looked like maps, or plans. She was a Special Operations operative, deep in the heart of occupied France, and she had to get them home. Somehow, she met a contact in a local café, and passed them on, but she was being watched. Someone wanted to know what was in those papers, and she never made it back to the rendezvous point…Soldiers bundled her into a van at gunpoint, demanding in harsh, accented English what was in her plans, eventually dragging her into some sort of office.

Defiantly, she glared up at the guard. She'd never talk, and they'd never win. She'd die first. It could have been minutes or hours, but the guard grew tired of her lack of cooperation, and threatened her with the Kommandant. 

'You will talk for him, I think…and then we will know…' he sneered, leaving her. Some moments later, she heard footsteps coming closer, and then the door swung open. Involuntarily, her eyes widened in surprise. She'd been expecting a fat, middle aged man, but he was only young. Maybe ever younger than her and much more…attractive…than she'd been lead to believe.

'So,' he began, crossing the small office and sitting at the desk opposite. He leaned back, swinging his legs up to rest on it, and fixed her with a glare that had just a hint of something else.

'You have something I want. You give it to me now, or…'

'And what's that?' Sylvia asked brazenly. They weren't going to break her – not even if he did look at her that way…

'Information,' he continued, standing up to tower over her, but the look in his eyes said differently. He didn't care about some map, her suspicions confirmed as his hand suddenly grabbed at hers, pulling up her to face him.

'Really?' she demanded, her heart racing at him being this close. 'That's all you want?' His eyes flickered. She wasn't playing by the rules.

'I ask the questions, Fraulein,' he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. A prisoner shouldn't affect him like this…

'Go on then,' she challenged. His gaze raked over her, her legs, her breasts, settling on the top button of her blouse.

'You have more papers?'

'No.'

'So take off your shirt – prove it.' It wasn't an order she should have obeyed – against all training, but there was something about this man that she couldn't resist. The first button was barely loose when she felt him over her, tearing the others free and capturing her in a kiss that broke all resolve and reason…

Suddenly awoken by a loud crash, Sylvia's head swum at the dream images that had seemed so real. Her pulse was racing, but the heat that consumed her was nothing to do with shock from the dangers outside. It was him…in her dream…like in that film…was that wrong? She turned on the small bunk, attempting to ignore the other…effects…of her overactive imagination that nonetheless were rather insistent in their demands for attention.

What on Earth would she be like seeing him tomorrow?


	4. Chapter 4

Had he ever thought to leaf through some of his mother's worn looking Romance novels, Pike would have learned various new words that could be useful in explaining how he felt thinking of Sylvia. As it was, all he had to go on were the films he loved, and none of them seemed to have described the tumbling, dizzying, exciting feeling he had at the thought of seeing her again. He'd heard hints and snatches of what it (and everything else) felt like from the older men, maybe in memories of a windswept Scottish cliff or a tropical Indian night, but no real idea of what happened with an actual girl. Well, there were the absolute basics – they'd all been told (and seen) at school how Miss Beckwith's rabbits became more rabbits, but there was far more to it than that.

It wasn't as though he hadn't kissed a girl – in fact, he'd kissed two, but had to admit that one had been rather less than interested, and the other was far more interested in the American contingent that was stationed there a while back. That didn't mean he hadn't felt like this when he did though – he'd even asked one of them to marry him, and for a week or so, she'd said yes. But Violet had never really seemed to adore him like he did her, and as it turned out, everyone else was right, and it didn't last. It was definitely the same feeling though, with Sylvia. The same impatience to get a ring on her finger, even he hadn't thought any further than what that meant…or what it let you get away with. He rushed off, calling a cheerful goodbye to his mother, and escaping before she could give him another lecture on how to behave with a young lady/how much she was worried last time, or anything else.

Mavis looked up as she heard him, jumping up to catch him, and then sitting back as the door slammed. She'd known, if she was honest, that this day would come, from the first time she'd held her baby boy in her arms. It didn't make it any easier to accept. So many things seemed to have happened in a short space of time to remind her that he wasn't her little boy any more, even if Arthur had since explained that nothing had happened between Frank and the Hodges girl that night…that didn't mean it wouldn't. What with his call-up papers, and (briefly) being accepted by the RAF, and now a girl, Mavis's nerves had been sorely tested over the past couple of months. One strange thing though…once Arthur had managed to make her understand that her baby would not be having a baby of his own in nine months' time, she was oddly disappointed not to be planning a wedding and knitting bootees and blankets. She liked seeing him happy though, even if it was mixed with sadness.

'Hello,' Sylvia was blushing already when she opened the door. This wasn't normal, was it? 

'Hello,' Pike replied, just as nervous. He hadn't seen her in three weeks, and didn't quite believe that she hadn't found someone else, even though she always seemed happy to hear from him in her letters. 'You ready?'

'Yeah…Mum? I'm just off now…yes, I'll be back by ten…bye!' she called back into the hall.

'You really will be back this time, I'm sure,' Ada replied, bustling out to see them before she left. 'You look after my girl!' she added, nodding at Pike.

'Yeah, I will, Mrs Hodges,' he agreed, quite shy and yet rather pleased that she seemed to think he was her boyfriend already, even though Sylvia hadn't said.

'All right then. Ten o'clock. I'll see you then,' Ada finished, letting them go.

They didn't really know what to say to begin with, and walked down the street darting quick glances at one another and not being sure what to do with their hands. Sylvia understood now that she'd been too…enthusiastic…the first time, and Pike wasn't sure if he did hold her hand, she'd get like that again…and did he want her to? It had been scary, thinking of what she seemed to want, but…he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it either. They couldn't have done though…not yet…he added, which wasn't the same as 'No.' She was wearing the same dress as last time too. He'd been hoping she would.

On arriving at the crowded restaurant, the air filled with a mixture of cooking fat, damp newspaper and cigarette smoke, they sat down and looked at each other, then down at the menu, still rather self-conscious and concerned about the impression they made.

'You like Lime Crush, don't you?' Pike asked then, remembering what she'd had when they first met.

'Yeah,' Sylvia smiled, pleased that he did. 'You had the Raspberryade.'

'Yeah…would you like one now? And did you know, you can put them together, they mix nice!' he finished, trying not to make it too obvious he was pleased that she remembered too.

'Like a cocktail!' Sylvia laughed, making him smile. 'OK, Raspberry and Lime, mixed together!' As Pike went off to get them, she watched him, leaning forward slightly like she'd wanted to during the film. When he came back, she could resist it no longer.

'We saw this film on camp,' she began, reddening but carrying on, 'and you'll never believe it, but there was this boy in it that looked just like you, only German, well, playing a German…'

'Oh yeah!' Suddenly all shyness was gone, as Pike's pride in his starring role came to the fore. 'Did you like it? That was the second time we did it, 'cause the first time Mr Mainwaring got in so much trouble, 'cause people thought we were real Germans! We put the whole of the South Coast on Red Alert!' he added, naturally ignoring his own responsibility for it.

'Oh you didn't!' Sylvia breathed, not even wanting to imagine how that would go down with Sgt Dobbs.

'Yeah, we did! But did you like it?' Suddenly that was far more important.

She didn't answer straight away, and when she did, a blush rose in her cheeks once again, and she looked down at the table.

'Um, yeah. I did. I really did,' she said then, darting her glance up to meet his. And you have no idea just how much, she finished to herself.

'Really?' Pike would have been proud enough of himself if anyone had it said it, to be honest, but especially hearing it from her. And there was something in her reply he wasn't quite sure of, but why did it make her blush? Did she like it like he liked films with a pretty girl in? He didn't want to ask that, especially considering what that might mean.

They were halfway through their cod and chips, and had been chatting quite happily about Mr Jones' upcoming wedding, when somehow the conversation turned to, of all things, conkers. It all started when Sylvia mentioned that her parents had got married in October, and she was always reminded of it when the conkers came out.

'Do you play conkers?' Pike asked then.

Sylvia laughed. 'Not now! I did when I was a kid!'

'Well, you know some conkers are really good, and you bake them, and varnish them and stuff…'

'Yeah?'

'Well, you know, that helps them win, and then some you keep for years, and you don't let anyone else play with them…' He paused, not quite sure where he was going with this, but knowing what he meant. 'Your eyes look sort of like conkers.'

'Do they?' She sounded amused, a smile touching her lips.

'Yeah, 'cause, they're not just brown, a lot of them. They've got different sorts of colours that are really dark or really light, and your eyes are bit like that,' he managed, not quite wanting to admit to the effect those same eyes had been having on him all evening. And I really like them…he added silently, too shy to admit it.

'Really?' He was making her giddy again. 'That's nice…'

On their way back, the two of them were wandering back along the sea front when Sylvia's heel caught slightly on a paving slab that had been taken up a while back.

'Ow!' she exclaimed, more annoyed and concerned about the state of her shoe than hurt.

'You all right?' Pike asked then, broken out of his thoughts on whether or not he should hold her hand now, and maybe even try for a goodnight kiss.

'Yeah, it's fine. Just the heel got caught,' she replied, trotting to catch up.

'Oh, yeah, well…' It was worth a try. 'You could always…maybe…hold my hand…if you want?'

Sylvia's smile then made the tumbling in his stomach go crazy, but that was nothing compared with feeling her take his hand.

'OK…maybe I will.'

They walked on a little further, and then Sylvia found herself being pulled over to a shop that was still open.

'Where're we going?' she asked, as he took out his Ration Book and money, and was handed a small paper bag in return.

'That's for you,' he said, presenting it to her. Inside were lots of tiny multi-coloured balls, of the sort that her mother had used to put on trifle.

She cocked her head slightly, looking up at him through thick red curls. 'Are they Hundreds and Thousands?'

'Yeah – it's my sweet ration. I always get it in Hundreds and Thousands, 'cause they weigh less, and you get more…'

He trailed off as she smiled and unthinkingly licked a finger, dipping it into the bag and got some out, staring as she brought the finger up to her mouth and licked them off. It was nothing he hadn't done, loads of times, but it was making his pulse race, making him blush, and he had no idea why.

'You all right?' Sylvia asked then, clearly oblivious. 'Did you want some?'

'Uh…no…' He didn't sound sure. 'You have some more though.' He did then. If he was honest, he'd been finding it hard enough not to stare at her cardigan that pulled and bounced slightly as she walked…he hadn't really needed anything else.

'Is this your whole week's ration?' Sylvia asked then, both a little unnerved and strangely excited at the way this young man was watching her eat some sweets as they walked along. She wasn't used to feeling nervous around boys – it was usually just a bit of a laugh to tease them and forget about it.

'Yeah. Once this bomb came down, and they went all over the floor, and then…' Pike regaled her with the tale of what happened next, glad for the chance to get his attention back to normal and not mess everything up by dragging her round the corner and trying for a kiss right there.

Some minutes later, they'd nearly reached the turning by Sylvia's house. She'd finished her sweets and paused to put the empty bag in her handbag. It was just rubbish, really, so why was she considering keeping it? As she looked up, they caught one another's eye.

'That was nice,' Sylvia murmured, shifting on her heels. 'Better'n last time, eh?'

'Yeah.' He caught hold of her hand again, and they walked a little further, before stopping just before her house.

'Umm…I like you.' Pike knew that wasn't the best way to say it. As if Robert Taylor or Ronald Coleman would say it like that! She'd probably still think he was soppy…

He wasn't expecting her to smile and get flustered, looking down at her feet and then up at him, turning those beautiful eyes on him that had his attention, really, from the moment they met.

'I s'pose you know I like you…' Her admission was soft, gentle, nothing like the flirty bravado she'd tried to begin with. Not that that hadn't worked…

'Can I kiss you?' The question was asked in one quick breath, in an attempt to get the words out before he really thought too much.

'Yeah.' No hesitation. They were closer now, holding one another's hands. She felt herself pulled closer still then, slightly tripping on her heels as Pike caught her. Her hat knocked his, and the kiss was a quick, sudden dart at her lips, but not so unsure that it could possibly have been his first. Forgetting, in that moment, the trouble she'd caused by pushing too fast, Sylvia threw herself tighter up against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Suddenly she felt herself pulled in at the waist too, as her touch set off some instinctive reaction in Pike that scared him, but he didn't want to stop. She felt so warm and soft, and that cardigan was right up against his chest now, pushed up hard enough to feel her every dip and curve. Her waist felt tiny, with his fingers just skirting other hidden, enticing possibilities when footsteps across the street brought them back, and they broke apart hurriedly, awkwardly.

'Thank you for walking me home,' Sylvia said, after a moment, her cheeks still flushed and breathing erratic.

'That's all right.' He wasn't quite ready to look her in the eyes just yet. Doing that would only make…something…worse, and it was bad enough already.

'I'd best be going…'

'Yeah…Will you come back? Next time? Will I see you?'

'Yeah…' Sylvia smiled, and turned to go. 'G'night Frank…'

No-one had ever said his name quite like that. 'Night…Sylvia.' He loved hers.

It took almost ten minutes after she left for Pike to calm down sufficiently enough to remember his own way home, only one coherent thought in his head.

I love Sylvia Hodges…


	5. Chapter 5

Mavis jumped up as soon as she heard Pike's key in the door.

'Hello! I'm back…' She could tell he seemed different already. He usually called it rather more loudly, not with a slightly dreamy note to his voice.

'There you are!' she said then, bustling out to the hallway. She'd been nervy all evening, and her port and lemon was only just taking the edge off. 'I was getting worried about you!'

'Mavis, really, there was no need to be,' Wilson interrupted, sensing that she was about to go into a tirade. 'Frank's home on time, just as he said he would. Did you two have a nice time?'

'Yeah, good thanks, Uncle.' He knew he sounded a bit evasive.

'I'm not sure about that girl though,' Mavis wasn't finished yet. 'A decent girl wouldn't have agreed to go out with a young man she'd only just met anyway, let alone what happened last time…'

'Which wasn't their fault,' Wilson reminded her. 'And she's home now, safe and sound.'

'Well…' She didn't want to give up that easily. 'Aren't you going to come in and tell us about it?'

She looked at him expectantly. Pike didn't really know what to say, and glanced over at Wilson for some help. He caught the look in the younger man's eyes, and knew (and could remember) enough to tell that passing every little detail of the evening to his mother was really not what he wanted to do right now.

'Mavis, my dear,' he said then, laying one hand gently on her arm. 'I'm sure Frank will tell you all about in the morning. Now why don't I get you another drink and you tell me about your Aunt Elsie's operation?'

'Uh, yeah, I am quite tired,' Pike said then, realising this could be his chance to escape.

'Well, I'm not surprised. Out til all hours with a girl…'

'It's only just gone ten!'

'Mavis, please. Frank needs to be up for work in the morning…'

'All right then,' she replied, still not exactly happy at not getting her in depth report on events. 'Would you like a drink or anything?'

'No, thanks Mum.' He couldn't get away soon enough. 'G'night!'

Once in his room, Pike made sure to shut the door and crossed over to his bed, pulling his jacket and tie off and dropping them haphazardly on the floor. His shirt managed to find its way over the back of his chair, but his trousers didn't, and just fell on the opposite side of the floor to the rest of his clothes, with shoes kicked under the bed somewhere amongst the rest of the mess that lurked there. He found a crumpled set of pyjamas stuffed under the pillow and put them on, still thinking of the evening just gone and the lovely girl he'd spent it with.

He didn't get into bed straight away though. Turning off the main light, he just left the one by the bed and lay back, looking up at the wall. Just over the bed was where he'd put up all the various Hollywood pin-up girls he'd ever had a thing for – there were quite a few of them. Trying not to think about why he was looking, Pike then wondered if it needed to be his 'favourite' one, and leaned over to pull a notebook out from the bottom of a drawer next to the bed. Hidden in the back was a promotional shot of 'his Joan', in some sort of frilly little top and tight shorts, leaning with one leg up against a palm tree on a Californian beach, blonde curls shining in the sunlight. Nice…but still not really the one he wanted. The outfit was nice though. Maybe that could work…

He stuffed the notebook back in the drawer, and settled under the covers. He only felt slightly guilty as he snapped the lamp off, thoughts centred far more on a pretty redhead who'd been making him want…this…all evening. That was a lovely photo…

Other than the palm trees, Pike didn't really know what a Californian beach would look like, so he decided to stick with one he knew. It was still a hot day though, and leaning over the railings on the sea front, he could see her, silhouetted against the small hut they'd been on duty in that time. Dipping his gaze from her thick curls, that almost seemed on fire in the sunshine, he followed the curves poking sharply from her frilly little top that rose and fell with every breath she took, down to a small waist cinched in tight by her buttoned up shorts, right down smooth, slender legs. She didn't notice him, more interested in the ice cream that was melting in the heat, dripping slowly down the cone and over her fingers. She darted her tongue out quickly, catching one drop before it fell, but couldn't catch another, that dripped to her top, leaving a pale creamy stain that soaked into the thin fabric…

That was nearly enough. Enough for his hand to slide lower and wriggle himself free. He could tell what had inspired the sticky dribbles over her fingers already. He wasn't done yet though.

The cold wetness seeping through her blouse made her look down, and shifting the ice cream from one hand to another, she somehow peeled the stained top free, suddenly leaning against the windblown planks with nothing but a pale silky bra as protection from further drips, running faster now, threatening the taut material…

Faster, now. Harder. The dribbles weren't enough. Impatiently, he managed to unscrew the lid on the jar of Brylcreem by his bed, and smeared a large dollop over his palm. His hand closed round himself again, imagining the next drop falling right over her chest, causing her to pull that bra loose too, and among the heat and sweat felt the sudden escalation inside him that just as quickly exploded in release. With his breathing heavy, and pulse still racing, it was a few moments before Pike remembered he'd need to get those pyjamas hidden away inside something so his mother didn't find out…but it was worth it.

Some weeks passed, and all of a sudden, the date set for the wedding of the 72 year old local Butcher, L/Cpl Jack Jones to the somewhat flashy, but unfailingly warm hearted widow, Marcia Fox was upon them. As it turned out, Sylvia couldn't be there, which did have the benefit of avoiding any comments from Hodges. Even if he could just about accept the reality that his niece had seemingly picked a boy he couldn't stand (for various reasons), it didn't mean he had to like it.

A couple of days before, remembering that he'd been sent an invitation, Pike decided to call Joe Walker, a man who'd been part of their platoon until about a year ago, when he'd been called back to London for some unspecified war work, to see if he was coming.

'Hello Joe!' he greeted him happily. 'Just wanted to know if you got your invitation to Mr Jones' wedding?'

'Oh yeah, mate, I did,' Walker leant back in his chair in his small office, looking out over the crammed warehouse. Having made something of a name for himself circumventing wartime restrictions in Walmington on Sea, his efforts had not gone unnoticed. Far from landing him in trouble though, the authorities had decided that his particular talents could be put to better use on a national scale, and he was now in charge of a thriving department in the Ministry of Supply.

'I can't make it though,' he continued. 'Got something coming in that day, know what I mean? I sent a card though, and a little something to toast the bride!'

'Oh, OK.' Pike missed him, the only other member of the platoon who'd been even vaguely near his age. When Walker's allergy had prevented him joining the proper Army, it looked like he was there to stay; but of course, things hadn't turned out that way. 'Should be a nice day though. They're having the reception in the Church Hall, and Mum's Matron of Honour!'

'Yeah, yeah…do you know, if it was a couple of weeks ago, I might have been able to send down a bit o' extra sugar for the cake…still, reckon Jonesy'll like the whiskey!'

'Yeah. Uh, Joe?' Pike had something else to ask.

'Alright mate?'

'Yeah. Um…I've got a girlfriend!' he announced proudly.

'Oh right, nice one!' Walker replied, leaning back in his chair. 'What's her name?'

'Sylvia.' He smiled just saying her name. 'She's Mr Hodges' niece…'

'Blimey, not like 'im, I 'ope?'

'No! Nothing like him – she's nice!'

'OK, right. So, she got a birthday comin' up? I can get you some Canadian stockings?'

'No, it's not her birthday 'til December. Joe? There is something you could get…'

There was a pause. 'Oh…right…yeah, I can get those…'

'Those what?'

There was another pause, as Walker remembered who he was talking to. 'Uh, nothin'…don't matter. What was it you wanted?'

Pike didn't answer him for a minute, making him wonder if his first assumption was correct after all.

'A ring,' he said then, nervous and expecting to be told he was making a mistake, like last time, but not to be deterred either.

Walker leaned back on to his desk, trying not to sound too exasperated. Having successfully managed not to get married for the past twenty years, he found it hard to understand why anyone would willingly chose to, and had the lad learned nothing from last time?

'A ring? Are you sure about this? Last time that 'appened you got water chucked over you and your Mum threw you out!'

'Yeah.' That was what everyone remembered. That and his mother screaming and fainting at the Dance, and he'd realised Violet wasn't worth getting locked out and soaked for, round about the time she'd gone home in a strop rather than show any concern for him. If he'd had a ring for her by then, no doubt that would have chucked back at him too. That was when he'd had to admit she didn't love him – everyone else, it seemed, knew that already.

As far as Violet was concerned, she was marrying a tolerable looking boy with, most importantly, a decent job that would keep her after the war – she wasn't sufficiently interested to put up with his mother. She'd never looked at him the way Sylvia did.

'OK, uh, right…' Walker still didn't really know what to say to that. 'Does your Mum know about this?'

'No, not yet. No-one does, it's a secret.'

'Right, well, yeah, I got a mate in 'Atton Garden, he does nice rings…uh…' He wasn't really sure whether or not to ask this, but did anyway. 'You're not doin' this…'cause you 'ave to, are you?'

There was a pause. Pike didn't get it straight away, but when he did, sounded every bit as sharp as his mother could.

'No I'm not! My Sylvia's a nice girl, an' I'm asking 'cause I want to!'

'All right, all right,' Walker said, trying to calm him down. 'Just askin'…OK. I'll go round today, yeah, an' see what 'e's got, and let you know, OK?'

'All right.' Slightly mollified at that, Pike agreed. 'And don't say anything yet.'

'No, I won't, but don't do what you did last time!'

Placing the receiver back some moments later, Pike had to agree he was right. Not only would his mother need to meet Sylvia properly, but at some point, he'd have to tell her…he wasn't looking forward to that. Last time, he'd thought the announcement at the Dance would be romantic…she'd loved it in that film…didn't turn out that way though…

The wedding was a pleasant day, if disrupted by the platoon being called out on duty during the reception, and so it was that poor Jones, instead of spending his first night as a married man with his wife, was sitting on the sea front with Pike.

As he said, 'Bet you didn't expect to be spending your wedding night with me, did you, Mr Jones?'

'No Pikey,' the old soldier grumbled. 'I did not.'

At that, the trill of a lady's voice came calling down towards them. 'Yoo hoo! It's Mrs Jones!' She bustled over to them, all of a twitter, taking her grateful new husband off for a little walk towards the pier. Pike watched them go, having said he thought they'd have a bit of kiss and cuddle too – denied of course, by Jones, but there was too much evidence to the contrary for him to believe that.

Some moments later, Mainwaring himself marched up, asking where Jones was.

'Where he's meant to be on his wedding night,' Pike grinned, knowing it would probably get him in trouble for being cheeky, but couldn't help it. 'With his bride!' He knew what was meant to happen on a wedding night. He'd wanted it before, and did again.

All such musings were of course, completely lost on his Commanding Officer, whose own wedding night, incidentally, had been disappointing to say the least. What was it his Uncle Arthur had said about it? Something about learning the bagpipes because there was nothing else to do? That wasn't going to be how it was when he got married…even if he wasn't sure quite how it would be…

As it turned out, the alert had been called off some time ago, and no-one had thought to tell them, at least not until Hodges turned up and took great pleasure in informing them just how much they'd been wasting their time.

'…I mean, what good would you lot be against real soldiers?' he sneered, turning to leave. 'The Nazis'd walk straight through you!'

In spite of himself, that had worried Pike slightly.

'Mr Mainwaring? Warden wasn't right, was he, when he said the Nazis'd walk straight through us?'

In response, the platoon denied the truth of his words to a man, leaving him in no doubt that whatever happened, the men of Walmington wouldn't be going down without a fight. Then there was even some champagne, which Wilson sneaked into Pike's mug in defiance of Mainwaring's orders, and they all felt the same curious, unshakeable pride in themselves, drinking to their comrades across the land.

It was only later, that Pike managed to get hold of his Uncle before they went home.

'Uncle Arthur?'

'Yes Frank?' He wanted something. He could tell.

There was a pause. That was unusual. He usually came straight out with it and went on about it until he got it.

'Can you ask Mum something?'

'Me? What is it?'

'Can Sylvia come round for tea sometime? She'll listen to you, Mum, I mean.'

'Well, yes, I suppose so.' That wasn't what Wilson had been expecting. He hadn't expected Frank to still be 'involved' with her by now, to be honest, going on previous experience, and especially given the start they had, but somehow it seemed to work. But then, how many people would have thought his own relationship would work? Let alone still be going just over twenty years later…

'Umm…' There was something else. 'I love her.' Another pause. 'An' I think she might love me.'

'Oh, well…' This was going into territory he'd never been very good at discussing. 'She seems like a nice enough girl, even if she is related to that awful common fellow Hodges…'

'Yeah, well…' A slightly harder note came into Pike's voice remembering him, and then another pause. 'I don't want to marry him.'

'Marry?' Oh dear. They'd been here before…

'Yeah. Don't tell anyone. Not yet.'

'Well…' Wilson didn't think he'd flounder as much as he did the first time, but he was no better. 'Are you sure? I dread to think what he'll say…'

'Don't care what he says. I love her…I want to marry her. More'n anything.'

Wilson still didn't really know what to say. Had he really thought about this? Trying to imagine Frank as anyone's husband, to imagine him being that responsible, wasn't easy, but at the same time…he wasn't a child, despite his mother's belief. A few months ago, just before he'd met Sylvia in fact, he'd been called up to fight and potentially die for his country, and would have gone without hesitation. No, he wasn't a child any more…how he'd convince Mavis though, he had no idea.

'Well…if you're sure…' Maybe this would all blow over. 'Now, come on, let's go home, shall we?'


	6. Chapter 6

Sylvia was nervous. She wasn't very often – growing up as the only girl in a family of boys and being in the Army now generally made sure of that, but faced with trying to impress Mavis Pike, she was. She'd only seen her once, when they brought the car back, and she'd been too busy berating her son to take much notice of her, but suspected she wasn't her favourite person. As far as she was concerned, Sylvia was most likely still the bad girl who'd tried to lead her boy astray (which wasn't exactly untrue, she had to admit), but somehow, she had to convince her otherwise at tea this afternoon.

'There,' Ada said, brushing her daughter's newly set curls. 'You look lovely.'

'Thanks Mum…do you think she'll like me?'

Ada smiled, slightly on edge herself. She'd never had much to do with Mavis, not having been in Walmington for very long herself, and getting the distinct impression from Bill that there were…reasons…why she shouldn't get too friendly, but knew she was very protective of her boy, and some other things too. Things about the boy's father…not that anyone really knew, but…well, you heard things…not that it was his fault…

'And there but for the Grace of God…' Ada told herself, hoping yet again that Sylvia would continue to be…sensible. She could remember when she'd first met her Stan, and knew it wasn't easy. If Frank's mother had forgotten that once, well…that led down a path she'd never want Sylvia to tread. Some of the ladies of the town still gave her stomach sidelong glances, even now.

'Course she will!' Ada replied briskly, squashing down her concerns. 'Just you be nice, and respectful, and you'll be fine!'

On ringing the bell to the neat semi in Laburnum Gardens, the door was opened almost immediately by a rather overexcited young man.

'Hello!' Pike hadn't seen her in nearly a month, and really just wanted to give her a big hug and kiss right there on the front step, but knew such behaviour wouldn't help if they were going to impress his Mum, and had to settle for giving her a quick peck on the cheek before anyone noticed. Even that made his head spin slightly, and he attempted to cover his reaction by taking her hat and coat (as he'd been taught to do with 'company') by taking more time than was strictly necessary to arrange it on the hall stand before turning back.

'Hello…' That smile and somewhat naughty look in her eyes that he loved so much sparkled. 'Thank you for asking me round…'

'Frank? Is that…oh, yes.' At that Mavis bustled out from the kitchen, her eyes on the young woman all the way down the hall.

'Good afternoon, Mrs Pike,' Sylvia greeted, just as she'd been taught. 'I've brought this for tea,' she added, holding out a small cake tin.

'Oh, thank you dear.' She was being polite too. 'Do come in.' And she was trying to sound posh.

'Thank you.' As she followed Mavis, Pike couldn't quite believe she was there. No girl had ever set foot in this house, not since his birthday parties as a kid, and he hadn't even really wanted them there…this was different. There was no way on Earth they'd ever be left alone in the house together, but tonight he might imagine they were…

'Oh hello!' Sylvia knew that Sergeant Uncle of his was a different matter. She'd charmed him already. 'Sylvia, my dear, it's so good to see you again, it really is. Frank, why don't you get Sylvia some tea?'

'I was going to!' Pike whispered, slightly put out that he'd told him. 'Sylvia's brought a nice cake,' he continued then, putting it on a plate.

'Oh how lovely!' Wilson exclaimed, just as Mavis asked, 'Did you make it yourself, dear?'

'Yes, well, me and my Mum did,' she replied, still smiling. It was dawning on her that the only way to approach this was to have just the same attitude as Mavis did. 'It's Carrot Cake.'

'I like Carrot Cake,' Pike said then, with a flash of that adorable smile she loved.

'Yes, it's one of your favourites, isn't it?' Wilson asked, trying to let the girl know she'd done something right.

'Well, it's tricky to get right these days,' Sylvia put in, before there could be any comment on it not being the way Mavis did it. 'How do you do it?' she asked, turning the attention away from her.

'Oh, I do it with Bicarbonate of Soda.' In spite of herself, Mavis smiled. 'That's the only way to get it to rise you know, with no eggs.'

'And so you drive…things?' Wilson asked then, putting down his cup.

'Yes. I can fix some of them too!' Pike felt so proud of her.

'Isn't that awfully dirty?' Wilson wasn't sure about young ladies doing that sort of thing. 'Couldn't some of the chaps there do that?'

'Oh they do, but they do their training with us and then they go off somewhere else. We're the ones who deliver things!' she replied proudly.

'That's nice, dear. And you're from Hastings?'

'Yeah – yes. We moved over here not long after we lost my Dad, 'cause Mum didn't have any family there, and she's got my Uncle Bill here.'

The others around the table weren't quite sure that moving to live in the same town as Hodges was any kind of advantage, but let it pass.

'And what did you do before the War?' Mavis continued.

'I was a hairdresser. Always do the girls' hair on camp.'

'Do you know, I thought you'd do something like that,' Wilson said then, interrupting her questioning. 'Your hair suits you so very well, it really does…' He stopped there though, noting the flash of warning that came into Pike's eyes, and remembered himself. Not that he meant anything by it – not the sort of thing any decent chap would do, but…all right. Mavis probably wouldn't like it either...

'I had my hair done the other day,' stated Mavis. 'Don't you remember, Arthur?' The tone implied he'd better had.

'Oh, you did, yes.' He hadn't managed to hold on to her all these years without knowing when to say what. 'And it was really most awfully nice. That little…roll thing…at the front, lovely.'

During this exchange, the younger couple grinned rather self-consciously at one another, and were quite glad when the conversation turned sufficiently for a mollified Mavis to get out a small stack of sponge fingers.

'Would you like some of these?' she asked Sylvia, handing her the plate.

'Oh, thank you, yes please,' Sylvia replied, then stared down at them, trying very hard not to let herself be reminded of a conversation she'd had with Elsie and Jean just before she'd come down.

'You're going to see your Frank again, then?' Elsie asked, fixing her friend with a wicked grin.

'Yeah…can't wait,' Sylvia admitted.

'You're lucky,' Jean added. 'What with Don on the convoys, there's hardly any chance of seeing him!'

'I know,' Sylvia felt sorry for her friend. 'You did get to see him this time though!'

'Yeah…' A faraway look came into Jean's eyes. She'd announced their engagement not long before.

'And…?' 

'Did you, then?' Sylvia asked. 'Before he went?'

Jean smiled. 'Well…not exactly…'

'Not exactly?' Elsie seemed to know what she was talking about, but Sylvia didn't.

Jean blushed. 'No, but…his Dad's got an allotment, and a little shed…Don took me down there…'

'Jean Burrows, you naughty girl!' Elsie's eyes sparkled with gossip. 

'You didn't though, not everything?' These were Sylvia's best friends. No matter how good she was at making out she knew it all with the lads, they were still a vital source of information when she didn't.

'No, but, well…you know sometimes…men need a hand…?' That she did know. The lads at work didn't stop going on about it. 'Well, sometimes…you can help…'

'And there's other things too…' confided Elsie, flicking her tongue over her finger, held up in front of her, and suddenly Sylvia remembered innocently licking those sweets off. Was that what he thought…did he know that? It didn't seem likely, but…

In any case, she really wasn't going to think about that – but couldn't help a slight blush rising and knew she'd deliberately tease him with it sometime, now she knew what it meant…

'Of course, finding a man who'll return the favour is something else entirely!' Jean laughed, and wouldn't say any more, but gave Sylvia plenty to think about that night…

'Any more tea, dear?'

Slightly guilty, Sylvia was jolted back the present, and smiling for reasons that weren't entirely respectable, accepted another cup of tea. Just as she lifted it to her lips, she caught Pike's eye, and with a little rush of excitement, noticed him blush too, as he noticed the spark in hers.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, and by the end of it, Mavis had to concede that while she still wasn't sure about the girl, she was…quite like her…and she did seem very keen on her boy.

'…and so I made my own!' Pike finished proudly, describing the portable Wireless set he'd made as he walked Sylvia home. She smiled. She knew he had a tendency to show off, and felt rather shown off herself when she was with him, but was a nice feeling.

'Hey, I could make you one!' His eyes lit up at the idea. 'Shall I make you one?'

'Wasn't it hard?' she asked, looking up at him under the brim of her hat, utterly flirting by now.

'No, not really…' Her adoration was making him shy all of a sudden. 'Just got to know what you're doing, that's all.'

'Oh, well then…' She stopped then, turning to face him. 'Not just a pretty face, are you?' She didn't get a chance to say anything else. His hand suddenly grabbed at hers, and she half ran, and was half pulled around a corner, before being kissed with her back to a wall. She felt the rough brick behind her and her breath get short enough to make her dizzy. She looked up at her Frank, and was almost nervous to see his usually pale grey eyes as dark as the sky before a thunderstorm before getting pushed up further and kissed hard. Her hand slid down his back, and she tasted of lipstick and Craven A's. It was only when Sylvia became dimly aware that she couldn't really go any lower and still be out in a semi-public place that, both out of breath at the same time, she was released.

'No.' The glance that met her eyes was the curious mix of slightly shy and somewhat cocky that she'd come to love. 'No, I'm not.'

Pike was still thinking about that kiss a week later. Well, it was almost certain to be more interesting than whatever Mr Mainwaring was about to tell them on Parade one evening, but on this occasion, he was wrong.

'…and so this Platoon has been chosen by Area Command to put forward a representative for the South East Divisional Marksmanship Trophy, to be held at Horse Guards Parade, Home of the Blues and Royals, practically at Buckingham Palace!' the Captain finished triumphantly.

Jones jumped in. 'Permission to speak Sir? I should like to be the Platoon representative for the Trophy, Sir, let me be the representative, I'd enjoy that…'

'Jonesy, Jonesy…' Wilson attempted to calm him down. 'It's a competition, do you see? We can only send one person, and Captain Mainwaring thought the best way to choose would be to practice, on Saturday, over the Range at Peabody Hall.'

'Aye man,' Frazer added, looking at Jones out of the corner of his eye. 'A competition!' The look on his face made it clear that he knew his chances were considerably better than the old butcher's, and maybe the good Captain would be more amenable to discussing promotion with the Platoon's 'Divisional Representative'…

'When is it, Mr Mainwaring?' Pike asked then. This actually sounded good.

'Only two weeks away, on the 16th August.'

'That's my Birthday!' Pike announced excitedly. 'I've got to go then, not fair otherwise!'

'Pike,' Mainwaring glared over at him. 'If that's your attitude, you won't go at all. Now…'

Before he could continue, Godfrey seemed to realise what was going on at last. 'Oh, how nice, Frank, I shall ask Dolly to make you an Upside Down cake…how old?'

'Twenty, thank you Mr Godfrey!'

Mainwaring opened his mouth again, but still wasn't quick enough.

'Do you know, I'll never forget my 20th birthday…' Jones began conversationally, leaning on his rifle. '1890, on the North West Frontier, when we was fighting the Pathans. Well, some of them, there was some we was friendly with, and we had this native guide, and that morning I said to him 'It's my birthday'. Well, you know the Pathans, they don't really understand birthdays, on account of they don't have the education like what we have and they don't keep track, see, but then I said it was a special day, and he understood that. Then he said his old Mum always made something special on occasions such as this, and he'd make it for us. Well, imagine our surprise when we come back to the Cookhouse after being out on Patrol, and on the table was this huge sheep's head, horns, eyeballs an' all, and well, you had to eat it, didn't you? Very proud people, the Pathans, and if you reject their hospitality they take offence, and you will not like it.'

Realising he'd finished, Mainwaring and Wilson slowly got to their feet, having felt the need to sit down about halfway through. Sighing slightly, Mainwaring wished, not for the first time, that he had younger men under his command.

'So…as Sergeant Wilson says, meet here, next Saturday at…' He paused, looking at his watch. 'At nine hundred hours…'

'Well done, Sir, you got it right,' Wilson gave a slight smile. 'You really are getting awfully good at that!'

'At nine hundred hours!' Mainwaring repeated, rather put out. 'And Corporal, you will be responsible for transporting us to Peabody Hall. Now, it's been quite some time since we've gone over the Marksmanship Principles, so I feel we'd all benefit from some refresher training….'


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, the practice shoot at Peabody Hall went down to the wire between Pike and Fraser.

'Well done, Frank,' Wilson called, lowering his binoculars. 'That's just three more to win!'

Fraser glanced over at the younger man, knowing that he could be in trouble, but not ready to give up without a fight, and reached over to set his sights.

'Targets up!' Mainwaring called then. 'In your own time, go on.'

Shots rang out across the field, with a sharp clang of metal on metal as the targets fell. As the last went down, a tense silence fell as Mainwaring stopped them, before going out to check. He made some notes, and turned to come back down to the rest of the men.

'An excellent effort today men, from all of you,' he began, truly proud of them. This Platoon was everything to him, and he stood or fell by its fortunes.

'We can, however, only have the one winner, and that's you, Pike,' Mainwaring finished, looking over at him. Giving him a rare smile, he added, 'Well done.'

'Really? I won?' Pike was so proud of himself. 'Did you see that, Uncle Sergeant? I won!'

'Yes, I did,' Wilson smiled too. 'That's really very well done indeed!'

'And might I also say well done to you too, Fraser,' Mainwaring said then, looking over at the old Scotsman, who was looking somewhat disappointed. 'I have no doubt, that both of you would be vital in the defence of this town.'

'Aye…' Fraser agreed, sounding slightly resigned. 'Well, I'm no as young as I was…but , ye know,' he continued, looking over at Pike, 'there was some talk aboot the winner buyin' the first round…?' He wouldn't have reminded them if he'd won.

'What? I don't think I've got enough money for that…' Pike said, taken aback.

'Oh now, don't worry about that,' Wilson replied, helping him pick up the scattered shell casings. 'I'll give you some money…'

A week later, Pike sat down excitedly at breakfast to open his presents before he left. The day had been made even more special a few days before, when Sylvia had managed to get permission to come down to London to meet him, although she wouldn't make it until after the competition. He would have loved her to see it, but at least she'd be there later.

'Happy Birthday, Frank!' Mavis said, planting a little kiss on his cheek. 'Here, this is from me, and I'll make you a nice cake for when you get back!'

'Thanks Mum,' he said, eagerly tearing at the paper. 'Oh, that's nice,' he finished politely, looking at his new pullover.

'And this is from me,' Wilson handed him a small packet, that turned out to be a bar of Dairy Milk, '…and this is from the chaps in the Platoon.' Pike took the envelope, and was pleased to see they'd had a collection for him…somehow he could guess who contributed the odd sixpence…but that was nice of them, and there was quite a lot there too.

'Oh, thank you!' He smiled at them both. 'That's really nice of them!'

'Well, I mentioned that you'd thought about learning to drive a while back…' Mavis couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly at that – as if her boy was going out on the roads – and got to up to get something from the kitchen. '…so you could use it for that…or maybe something else…'

'Yeah.' Pike looked down then, and put the cheque in his pocket, knowing what he meant. 'I might do that.'

'She's coming down, isn't she?'

'Yeah – after the competition though…'

'Well, you two have a good time.' Wilson smiled, reaching into his pocket for his lighter.

An hour later, the three of them were standing on the platform at the station, waiting for the Victoria train.

'Now, you're sure you know where to go?' Mavis was getting anxious.

'Yes Mum, it's all in the instructions!'

'Well, you keep hold of them! And keep an eye on your money too! And don't you go talking to any strange men,' she finished, putting a hand on his arm.

'What do you mean? I've got to – I can't just ignore people from Area Command, can I?'

'I didn't mean them – strangers! On the train! And, you know, on the street…you get all sorts in London!' Mavis added, not quite looking at him.

Pike turned to Wilson, confused. 'Uncle Arthur, why would strange men talk to me on the street?'

'Now, Frank, never mind,' Wilson replied, shooting a glance at Mavis. 'Just you do as your mother says, there's a good lad.'

'All right…' He was none the wiser. Was this one of those things he wasn't going to be told?

'And I really think you ought to take your scarf…' Mavis said then, changing the subject and almost pushing it on him.

'It's August!'

'And it can still turn nasty! I think you should!'

'Mavis, please. It's Area Command. They're rather particular about uniform,' Wilson said gently, stopping her.

'Oh. All right then, but I hope they don't keep you out too much.' Mavis reluctantly put his scarf back in her bag, before dabbing at something on Pike's cheek. She had to stand on tiptoes for that these days, if she wasn't in heels.

'Mum!' He wasn't best pleased. Standing back, she looked at him. Was it really twenty years…

'Well, you make sure you get some lunch…'

There was a whistle, and the train pulled up. 'I will. Here, I better go now…'

'Good luck Frank!' Wilson said, as Pike got on.

'Yes, good luck!' Mavis was smiling again.

'Thank you, see you tonight!' he called, just as the train started to pull away.'

On the way to London, Pike spent a lot of time staring out of the window, thinking. He thought about the name and address he'd been given in Hatton Garden, that there was just enough time to visit when he arrived, and about the conversation he'd had with the Captain not long before. He knew now, too. Pike had come down early one evening to catch him before the Parade started, and knocked hesitantly on the door to the Vicar's office.

'Come in.' Mainwaring sounded surprised. No-one else generally arrived this early.

'Evening, Mr Mainwaring, Sir,' Pike began. 'Are you busy just now?'

'No, not really.' Mainwaring looked rather concerned. Had Wilson been thrown out again? 'Is something wrong?'

'No, not wrong, but…'

'Well, come on, out with it, boy!'

Taking a breath and trying to sound grown up, Pike asked him. 'Mr Mainwaring, if I wanted to get a loan, could I do it through the Bank, our Bank, I mean?'

'Erm, no…you'd have to go to another bank, I can't approve loans for my own staff…might I ask what you wanted it for?'

'Yes Sir.' He stared down at the floor for a moment, and then continued. 'A ring. An Engagement Ring.'

Mainwaring took a deep breath and scratched at his cheek. Well…that was unexpected. He hadn't taken much notice of the Hodges girl, to be honest, and certainly hadn't expected her to be still around by now…She'd been a hairdresser, apparently…not perfect, Mainwaring considered, but the boy was hardly likely to meet some debuntante, and at least this one's mother didn't clean houses for a living…

'I see.' Mainwaring wasn't really sure what to say. 'Does your mother know about this?'

'No Sir, not yet.'

Mainwaring sighed, and looked up at him. 'Promise me that this time you'll tell her before announcing it to the entire town.'

'Yes Sir, I will. So, do you think another bank would give me the money?'

'Yes…you've a steady job, good character…I can't see why not, but…are you sure?'

Why did everyone ask that?

'Yes. Thank you Sir.' Pike stepped back then, and, Mainwaring couldn't help but notice, gave him the smartest salute he'd ever seen from him. Still some shock, he returned it. He'd spent years wishing the boy would grow up, and suddenly it seemed he had, well, until the next time he did something, anyway…He'd seen a lot of young men at the Bank asking for such a loan, for such a purpose, and rather more of them since the War started. Some were more desperate than others – thankfully, Pike didn't seem to fit into that category, but…he just hoped that this marriage, if it happened, would be for the best…

Later that morning, Pike stepped off the bus at the stop in Hatton Garden, and made his way to the shop he'd been told about.

'Good morning, Sir,' the shopkeeper said, looking up from his paper. 'Anything I can help you with?'

'Umm, yeah. A friend of mine, Joe Walker, said you had Engagement Rings?'

'Oh yeah, just here, young man, he said you might be popping by…take a look at these,' he added, bringing over a glass case.

They were beautiful, small, delicate, glittering clusters on the dark velvet, and Pike's first thought was that he really hoped he'd get the money for it, because any one of these was worth more than he'd ever had in his life.

'The tradition is one to three months' salary, when it comes to rings,' the shopkeeper continued. 'Was there anything you were after in particular?'

'Umm, I don't know yet…I've haven't got the money yet,' Pike admitted, wishing he'd asked his Uncle Arthur to come with him. He'd know about this sort of thing, even if he'd never got married himself – he just would. There was one, though, up in the top corner of the box…a rose, it looked like, made of something that sparkled, and sitting in between what could be little emeralds. Something green would look nice with her uniform…maybe that one?

'How much is that one?' he asked, pointing at it.

The shopkeeper looked at him. He was Joe's mate, and probably getting called up any day. He deserved all the time with his young lady he could get – who knew if it would last? He told him the price, saw how worried the lad looked, and then continued.

'Look, how about I do you a deal?'

'What sort of deal?'

'Well, how about I take off a third of that price? I reckon you boys deserve it, these days.'

'Umm, yeah, OK…' That was just two months' worth then. He could probably get that. 'I can't give you any money yet though, but I can send some later?'

The shopkeeper agreed to keep it back for him, and feeling both relieved to have found it and in shock at the prospect of buying something worth more than everything he owned, Pike looked at his watch and saw that he only had an hour or so before the competition.

Once there, he thoroughly enjoyed the chance to show off what he could do, and although he didn't win, did pretty well, coming third overall, and was praised by a Major General. Now, all that was left was for Sylvia to arrive, and the day would be complete. She was due to come into King's Cross at four, and they'd planned on going on home together later. Eventually, at quarter to five, her train arrived, by which time Pike had started to get quite worried about her. Suddenly, he noticed footsteps coming closer, and looked up.

There she was – in uniform still, this time. She looked nice – he loved her pretty dress, but this was how he'd first seen her, and as such, that was a special outfit for him.

'Happy Birthday,' she said, her smile and the look in her eyes making him scramble to his feet and pull her close into a tight embrace, catching her lips in an eager kiss. As she felt herself pulled in at the waist, Sylvia forgot all the Greta Garbo style coolness she'd been planning on in an attempt to be seductive and let him take over, her heart racing as the now familiar giddy sensation she felt anywhere near him made her unsteady on her feet.

It was some moments before they stepped back, darting quick glances at one another, rather self-conscious at their own reactions.

'Thank you,' Pike managed then, remembering himself first. 'I got worried about you!'

'They had to let a load more people on,' Sylvia explained. 'Marines, a lot of them.'

'Oh, right…are you hungry?'

'Starving,' Sylvia answered honestly.

They left the station, getting a bus back to Piccadilly Circus and finding a small café up a side street.

'You ever been to London before?' Sylvia asked, having gratefully devoured her pie and mash.

'Yeah, once, when I was a kid, we went to see the Tower of London,' Pike said, remembering a trip they'd made when he was about thirteen. 'We saw the Changing of the Guard too, and on the way we went past this dead posh hotel, and the doorman there knew my Uncle Arthur!'

'Really?' Sylvia's eyes widened, impressed. 'How did he know him?'

'My Uncle used to go there, he said…some of sort of Ball?' Pike didn't really understand it, but his Uncle had kept the suit all these years. It looked like a scruffy dinner jacket and old hat – not worth keeping, to his mind, but it came in handy when they'd wandered around the town a while back pretending to be Fifth Columnists…

'Well, I never!' Sylvia tapped the ash off her cigarette.

'And that's not all!' Pike continued, leaning over excitedly. ''Cause the doorman knew him, we went in and had tea! There was palm trees and everything! My Mum couldn't believe it!'

'Fancy!' A thought struck her. 'Can we go?'

'Well…' Pike didn't really know what to say. 'I don't know how much it cost…'

'Oh, yeah. Sorry. One day though, maybe?' She looked so hopeful he couldn't say no.

'Yeah. One day.'

'Here, I bet you could sound posh enough, if you tried!' Sylvia said then, reaching over to hold his hand. 'Your Uncle can!'

'Yeah, maybe…'

'Go on!' she encouraged. 'Pretend you're in a film, playing some Lord who's just come back to claim his title, you know, the Heir to a tea empire, or something!'

'All right,' Pike said, smiling. He couldn't resist pretending to be a star. He took a moment to remember some lines, and then, his eyes on hers, gave his best aristocratic impression.

'My dear, won't you join us for cocktails in the lounge this evening? The Governor's reception simply isn't complete without you.'

'Oh…' Sylvia looked down then, suddenly quite shy. 'I didn't know you could actually do it…'

''Course I can! Did you like it?'

'Yeah,' she murmured, wondering if he noticed how much she'd been affected. Pike looked over at her. There was a funny look about her – he'd seen it when he told her about the training film, and often just after he kissed her. It was starting to dawn what that look meant, and the realisation made him hot, excited and shy himself.

'Then I shall escort you, Miss Sylvia,' he continued, curious to see if it had the same effect, and held out his hand.

'Didn't know I was out with such a classy chap,' she said, and blushed as she felt his hand take hers.


	8. Chapter 8

He spent quite a lot of time staring at her adoringly, and walking back to London Victoria on that warm summer's evening was no exception. He couldn't help letting his gaze drop lower sometimes, and always hoped she wouldn't notice, but she usually did. He'd got away with it with Violet, funnily enough, especially at the Dance, but she really wasn't taking any notice of him. His Sylvia was too sharp for that, and just then, caught his eye and smiled, making it clear she knew. Feeling somewhat guilty, Pike stared over then at the traffic, the shops, in some vain attempt to pretend he really hadn't been wishing she was allowed to take that jacket off. In reply, she just squeezed his hand a little tighter, falling in love a bit more.

When they arrived at the Station, the first thing they noticed were the crowds.

'Busy, isn't it?' Sylvia asked, looking at them.

'Weekend, innit?' Pike answered, but even so, busier than usual.

'Yeah, I suppose…' She thought no more of it until they reached their platform, where the crowd was thickest around a harassed looking Station Master.

'We don't know when they'll clear it,' the Station Master repeated wearily. 'Last I heard was another couple of hours and you'll have to try again then.'

'Excuse me?' Pike asked, raising his hand slightly. It was a habit he'd never been able to get out of, even though it was some time now since he'd left school. 'What happened?'

'Unexploded bomb on the South Coast Main Line,' he replied. 'It exploded, about an hour ago. No-one hurt, blew up in a field, but done for a few cows.'

Pike and Sylvia looked at each other.

'How're we going to get home?' he asked. Sylvia shrugged.

'Can't, can we? Just got to wait.'

They hung around on the platform for a couple of minutes, trying to think of what to do next.

'Think I'd best call my Mum,' Pike said then, glad now that he'd been taught how to do so. She might not like him using a public call box, but she'd be even less happy if she thought he'd been blown up. 'Can you call your Mum?'

'No,' Sylvia said, biting her lip slightly. 'She always uses the phone box down the end of our street, but I could call Uncle Bill?'

'Yeah, all right.' She could do that…

Ching, ching, went the coins in the box, as promised, and pressing the right button this time, managed to get hold of his mother.

'Hello Mum!' he began.

'Frank? Where are you calling from?'

'Victoria Station, Mum, Sylvia's here!'

'What? You never said she was coming down! You'll be lucky if there's enough cake for her, if only you'd said, and I told you about those phones!'

'Mum, she didn't know what time she could get here!'

'Oh, well…I still wish you would have said!'

'Yeah, sorry, but Mum? There was this bomb on the line!'

'What?' That got her attention. 'Where?'

'I dunno, somewhere on the line from Walmington, but in a field somewhere.'

'Arthur!' she called back into the hall. 'There was a bomb on the line! No, no, he's not…you're not, are you? Not hurt?'

'No Mum, but we don't know when they're going to clear it.'

Mavis sighed in exasperation. Why did this war have to make things so complicated?

'Oh, and I came third!' Pike added, thinking back to the competition earlier.

'Oh, well!' Her pride in her son outweighing her annoyance briefly, Mavis smiled. 'Well done, Frank! Did you hear that, Arthur? He came third!'

She let Wilson congratulate him, and then quickly took the phone back. 'Well, you make sure you get back on the very next train! I'm not having you out on your own in London in the middle of the night, do you hear me? You come back as soon as you can!'

'I'm not out on my own, I'm with Sylvia.'

Mavis took a sharp breath. 'That's neither here nor there, and it's not right for her to be out in London to all hours either!'

'No, I know…' Having sought reassurance that he would come home safe, Mavis was forced to let him go as the money ran out.

'Your turn,' Pike said then, grateful that this was one call he didn't have to make. Requesting the number for the Warden's post, Sylvia was less than keen herself.

'Hello?' she said. 'Is my Uncle Bill there? It's Sylvia.'

A squeaky voiced Northern-sounding man answered. 'Aye, he's just here love, I'll put in him on.'

'Hello dear,' Hodges took the phone. 'You all right? Wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight?'

'Didn't know if I could come down,' she replied. 'But, look, there was a bomb on the line, and I'm stuck in London…'

'Yeah, I heard about that – you there on your own?'

'No…Frank's with me…'

She heard his snort of impatience. 'With him? You're in London with him?'

'He was here for this Home Guard shooting competition…'

'Must have been scraping the barrel…'

'Actually, he did very well!' Sylvia corrected him. 'He came third!'

Hodges grunted. 'Yeah, well, you're telling me he's got to get you home?'

'Well, yeah, but he can't yet, 'cause we don't know when they're going to clear it!'

'Yeah...' He wasn't in the least happy about it, but there was nothing to be done. 'You just get back as soon as you can, that's all!'

'Yeah, we will, and can you tell Mum?'

Hodges agreed, and, glad the situation wasn't her fault, Sylvia said her goodbyes, and hung up.

'What shall we do now then?' Pike asked, looking at her.

Sylvia smiled. 'It's your Birthday…what would you like?'

'Pictures and Fish and Chips?' he asked, looking hopeful.

'Come on then, let's go back to Leicester Square!'

It was dark by the time the film ended. This time, they'd certainly had the kiss and cuddle that, to be honest, they'd both wanted the first time, and a nice meal too. Later, Sylvia found herself gazing up at the stars that were normally hidden in the London sky, wishing they didn't have to go back. They weren't far from the station when they heard it – the low, eerie rising whine of the siren and a faint rumbling high above.

'Come on.' Suddenly nothing else mattered but keeping her safe. 'There's a Shelter over there, look!'

Following others, they ran headlong into the tightly packed public shelter, dug into the grounds of some park, and were directed to a narrow bench at the far end as the siren's wail pierced the air. Squashed up against strangers in the dim, smoke filled air, Sylvia felt herself pulled in close. They'd both been in raids, of course, but this one wasn't like the rest. The few stray planes that they were used to were not the same as a heavy attack, and the world above was split with the sharp screech of the bombs, falling to the ground with a deafening crash, shattering homes, shops, lives in countless pieces. It wasn't like this at home.

Surely, Sylvia thought, it couldn't be possible, when her boy had made it here safe and sound, avoiding one bomb that could have killed him already, that she lost him now? It scared her to even be considering that. As for Pike, he kept thinking, he couldn't be scared – he couldn't. Men weren't scared, of anything, for preference, and he couldn't let the rest of the men back home down. He didn't know how many raids he'd been out in, but that didn't make it any easier, not really. He'd never admit that to anyone though, just like no-one would ever know he'd been afraid of joining up and not coming back. She jumped then, as one fell seemingly across the street, and fire engine sirens joined the cacophony of chaos amidst the burning, ravaged city above. It wasn't the London they'd arrived in, not now. It belonged to something else, using it for its own ends and meaning to break it.

It lasted for hours. Hours before the world grew strangely calm, and a final, welcome siren sounded through the smoky, dusty, broken night. Turning to one another, the young couple wrapped their arms around each other and held on tight, before standing up slowly on cramped, aching legs. As they made their way to the entrance, Sylvia stumbled slightly, falling against an older lady in front.

'Oh, I'm sorry!' Funny, that her first thought after realising that she was still alive was to be polite.

'That's all right, dear,' the lady said, turning to her. As she did so, Pike blinked in surprise.

'Aren't you Mrs Grey?'

'Yes…' She sounded just as surprised as he did. Once outside, she asked 'Aren't you from Walmington? Part of Mr Mainwaring's platoon?'

Sylvia could have sworn a certain eagerness came into the lady's voice just then, but dismissed it, suspecting she wasn't thinking straight.

'Yes, I think you know my Mum, Mrs Pike?'

'Oh, yes, I do! But, what are you doing here?' As she asked, Mrs Grey was joined by another lady, older still. It seemed so strange, all of sudden, to be having a normal conversation when the world had irrevocably changed.

'I came here for a shooting competition.' Even to Pike, that sounded odd now. 'I came third,' he added, but that didn't seem so important any more.

'I see. And this young lady..?'

'Sylvia, my girlfriend. She came down for my Birthday.'

'I don't believe we've been introduced,' the old lady said then, looking over at them.

'Mother, I met this young man while I was in Walmington, when the ladies were asked to join as helpers for the Home Guard?' She nodded. 'And this is his young lady.'

'I see. I'm afraid you know now, why I left,' she said, sitting down heavily on a nearby bench. 'If my daughter hadn't needed my signature to settle some accounts I would be there now.'

'We were going back on the Victoria train,' Sylvia added. 'But there was a bomb on the line, earlier, and they hadn't cleared the track.'

'Mrs Grey?' Pike asked then, beckoning her over. He looked around, and continued anxiously. 'I said I'd look after Sylvia, and my Mum said it wasn't right for a young lady to be out in London all night, but…' He kicked at the ground, wishing his Uncle, or any of the others were here.

Mrs Grey nodded. 'And so you should. May I speak to my Mother please?'

'Yeah.' He went back to stand by Sylvia, and took her hand. She was trying not to show it, but was slightly shaking.

'…and so what else could they do?' Mrs Grey asked. 'They're hardly likely to find anywhere suitable, or respectable, at this time of night?'

Mrs Harper sighed heavily. 'Well, it's hardly proper for a young girl to stay overnight with a man…'

'I quite agree,' Mrs Grey said. 'But frankly, the alternative is a park bench, or some dreadful hostel with drunks and who knows what else. He won't share with her, of course.' War or not, there was such a thing as propriety. Didn't she know that all too well?

'Very well,' Mrs Harper could see no other choice.

'Frank? Sylvia?' Mrs Grey walked over to them. 'Come with us. It's far too late, and certainly not the done thing for you to go anywhere else. Would you be able to contact your mothers in the morning?'

Pike and Sylvia walked down the unfamiliar street with the two ladies, the stars hidden now in acrid smoke. About half an hour later, they were settled, one in the box room, one on the couch. As luck would have it, Sylvia had the small overnight bag she'd brought down from camp, and feeling rather exposed, slowly undressed. Still feeling tense, she pulled the covers over herself and lay there in the darkness. She was tired, but it took a long time to close her eyes. It took a long time to stop hearing the explosions too.

A jolt woke her sometime later – it felt like falling. With a start, Sylvia jumped, wondering where she was. Slowly, she became aware of a rather pressing problem, and made for the bathroom. She wasn't really thinking of anything else, until she was on her way back, and passed the living room door. It wouldn't hurt, would it? Just to look?

Telling herself she wasn't really doing anything wrong, Sylvia pushed the door open slightly, just enough to see inside. That mound of blankets was him, probably fast asleep. He wouldn't notice if she came just a little bit closer…In the dim light from the weak hallway bulb, she could just see the tie she'd given him on the floor next to the couch, like it was the last thing he'd looked at before falling asleep. Sylvia smiled, and felt encouraged enough by that to come a little closer still.

He turned over then, just as she stepped on a floorboard that creaked in the gloom. She caught her breath anxiously, but the small flat stayed silent, until…

'What?' Pike was never good at waking up, and right now couldn't remember why he was squeezed up on to a strange couch that was none too comfortable to lie on, opened his eyes, and then he did.

'Sylvia!' he whispered sharply. 'What're you doing here? You can't be here!'

'I wasn't doing anything!' she whispered back. 'You woke up!'

'Yeah, but you'll get in trouble! We'll both get in trouble!' Saying that, she noticed him rub at his shoulder and wince slightly. Sylvia perched herself on the edge of the couch beside him, her heart racing. Strange, she would have expected his hair would get messier than that…He'd taken his jacket off - she couldn't tell about the trousers – he'd pulled the blankets up the moment she'd sat down, and fallen asleep in his shirt. Her eyes widened, glittering as they caught the light.

'Does that hurt?' she asked then, moving closer.

'Yeah, a bit,' Pike admitted, trying not to think about how close she was.

'My Mum's got this stuff she uses for her back. I help her with it sometimes…' Sylvia looked away then, tracing her foot over the carpet. She wasn't wearing the sort of pretty, silky nightdress he imagined – it was a sensible pair of cotton pyjamas, suitable to wear on camp, but there was still the very real possibility that there was nothing underneath. The top fell away from her breasts, and the bottoms were taut over her thighs.

'…'course, I haven't got it here, but…'

'What're you going to do?' It was a strange mixture of feeling terrified and fascinated.

'Nothing you don't want me to,' she managed, in a breathless whisper that made his own breathing harsh and shallow. 'Lie back down, if you like.'

'It hurts on that side.' Pike rubbed the shoulder to the opposite side of her.

'Lie down this way, then.' She'd gone too far already, what was a bit more? 'Here,' she finished, patting her lap.

He looked at her, unsure. 'I can't do that…'

'You don't have to…' Soft fingertips were brushing up his arm.

'All right…' Nervously, Pike shuffled down, until his head just rested on Sylvia's thigh, which felt hot through the thin cotton.

It was her fingertips again, that he felt first, and heard her breathing turn heavy as she flattened her palm and stroked it over his shoulder. Warm, soft strokes, that soothed the ache in his back, but were by no means calming anything else. He had to go a bit closer, just a bit.

'There.' With one last brush, Sylvia drew her hand back. 'Better?' The back of her neck felt hot, and with no curlers to hold it, her hair had come down, falling to her shoulders in burnished waves.

All he could do was nod, staring at her in the darkness.

Sylvia waited until her breathing slowed, and then asked.

'Frank? Did you mind me doing that? You did before – that first time, I mean?'

She was going to ask questions? Pike thought, confused. He had to think? Now? As such, it was a moment before he was able to answer.

'No,' he admitted, sitting up to face her, keeping a very tight hold on that blanket.

'Did you then?'

'Yeah, sort of…' This wouldn't have been easy to explain under normal circumstances, let alone now.

'Sorry.' He could feel her breath on his cheek as she spoke, and without really thinking, caught her face in a kiss, wanting, really wanting, to lean her back. She moaned gently, wanting to bury her shoulders into the cushions and drag him down with her, lift her legs and wrap them round tight…

It scared her. Sylvia straightened up sharply, guilty, shocked and beyond excited all at once.

'Can't…' she managed. 'Someone else's house…'

'Yeah…' He watched her stand up, and say an awkward goodnight, before turning away. Watching her go, Pike lay back, mind reeling at what just happened. He should have been scared too, and slightly was, but it didn't stop him thinking.

What if it wasn't?


	9. Chapter 9

Shortly before midnight, Ada had snapped at her brother in law, and pounded angrily down the dark street. He wasn't helping, saying that if anything happened to their Sylvia it was all 'that boy's fault.' He hadn't dragged her out in that raid on purpose, had he? How did he know what might happen? Hoping she'd found the right house, Ada banged frantically on the door.

Inside, Mavis jumped up, only to be sat back down firmly by Wilson.

'Mavis, please. You stay here, and I'll see who it is.' He sounded calm, but strained. He'd been sent home from that night's patrol as soon as news of the London raid broke. Mainwaring had claimed he didn't want Mrs Pike turning up in hysterics, disrupting his co-ordination of Walmington on Sea's defences, but Wilson could tell a rare note of concern in his eyes as he told him to stand down.

'Arthur, who is it?' she called from the living room, panic evident in her voice. This was it. She didn't know how, but this was someone who'd come to tell her he wasn't coming back…she knew it, she just knew it…

'Mr Wilson?' Ada exclaimed, surprise temporarily eclipsing her own panic. She'd probably wonder more about that, she thought, under different circumstances. It was past midnight…

'Mrs Hodges? My dear, do come in.' Had she heard anything?

'Who's that, Arthur?'

'It's all right, it's Mrs Hodges,' Wilson replied, showing her in. The two women had never really spoken, other than polite chit chat in the street, and looked at one another, each fearing the worst.

'Where's my boy?' Mavis broke first. 'You must have heard something, where is he?'

'No, I haven't!' Ada's nerves had been severely frayed already. 'And what about my girl? I came here 'cause I thought you'd know…you don't…' She collapsed then, falling into a chair and gratefully accepting Wilson's cigarette.

'No, we haven't heard anything,' Wilson confirmed gently. 'Mrs Hodges, is there anything I can get for you, some tea perhaps?'

'Please,' Ada replied, looking up at him. As he left, the two of them glanced at one another, somewhat embarrassed now at their lack of concern for the other woman's child.

'Sylvia says he was in some competition,' Ada began, awkwardly. 'Your Frank, I mean.'

'Yes, he was…' And if he doesn't come back because of it…

'Sylvia's brothers are out there, you know. One's in the Far East and one's in North Africa.' She dreaded that telegram every day. Somehow, that wasn't enough – she had to fear for all her children now, even the one she thought would be safe.

'Army?' Mavis asked. Maybe it would help to take her mind off things.

'One Army, one Navy…your Frank couldn't, could he?'

'No.' Mavis didn't often feel guilty that her boy had been spared, but just now she did.

There was silence for a moment.

'We've got Sylvia's School Certificate up there too,' Ada said then, nodding towards the hallway. 'My Stan was so proud.'

A watery smile crossed Mavis's face. 'Yeah…he's a good boy…Grammar School, you know!'

Wilson returned, handing the ladies a cup each. He took one for himself and lit the latest of countless cigarettes he'd got through that night.

It wasn't long before there was another loud knock at the door. Once again, Wilson refused to let the ladies come to the door, and as he opened it, was confronted by Hodges.

'Where's Ada? She here?'

'Yes, Mrs Hodges is here, and she's just had some tea,' Wilson began, fearing the most awful scene if Hodges decided to cause trouble, but one had to be polite, even so…'Did you want to come in?'

'It's my house, mate.' He couldn't stop that.

'Did you want to come in or not?' Wilson asked again, this time with a tone to his voice that reminded Hodges of the punch he had taken from him not long ago.

'Yeah. Wanted to see Ada,' he said, grudgingly accepting to be allowed in.

'Mavis, Mrs Hodges?' Wilson called on his way back in. 'Mr Hodges is here.'

No sooner had he said it, than Hodges barged his way in there.

'Bill!' Ada stood up sharply. 'If you've got nothing more to say than how Sylvia shouldn't have gone anyway near Mrs Pike's boy, forget it! My girl's out there, and I want her back! I want them all back.' She sounded bitter.

Stunned, he could only nod in reply.

'And right now, I don't care what else may or may not have happened. I just want her home.' she finished, taking a heavy drag of her cigarette as if she needed it.

'Yeah…' Hodges looked around him, uncharacteristically embarrassed. 'It's just, well, I promised Stan, didn't I, that I'd look after her…'

'Yeah. I know.' Ada stared down at the rug.

Some more tea was brought, and an uneasy silence fell over the group as they waited, all night, for news of those they loved. When the call came, shortly after six the following morning, neither mother could have been happier. Some hours later, their children returned, safe and sound. It was a measure of their relief that neither took much notice of the shy glances these two gave each other, indications, under normal circumstances, that something had gone on.

Summer slipped into autumn, and with it came a new challenge for the Walmington on Sea Home Guard. Some time ago, the Wardens had lost the cricket match with the Platoon (in spite of Hodges' attempted cheating), and he intended to even the score.

'Evening, Nap…' Hodges began, striding into the small office just off the Church Hall without knocking, and stopping in surprise. 'Oh – hello, Vicar, Mrs Jones. You seen Mainwaring?'

'Mr Mainwaring is giving some lecture out in the hall this evening,' explained the Vicar, who looked somewhat put out at having his meeting interrupted, 'and if you don't mind, we are rather busy trying to arrange the WVS function next month!'

'Yes, we're holding a dance for those nice Canadian boys stationed just up the road!' Mrs Jones twittered at him.

Hodges was on the brink of rolling his eyes and had his hand on the door to interrupt this lecture, if needs be, but paused briefly. Canadians weren't too bad – better than the damn Yanks, that was for sure. They didn't turn up late! He nodded, and wandered in to the Church Hall, oblivious to the groans and glowering looks.

'What are you doing here, Hodges?' Mainwaring was less than pleased to have his lecture on aircraft recognition disrupted.

'I come to issue you lot a challenge, mate,' Hodges began. The Platoon looked at him. 'I told you to wait for the Football Season – well, it's here. I reckon my lads are ready to settle the score.'

'If you feel that you could face another defeat, of course,' Mainwaring replied, as the men nodded their agreement.

'I played for Eastbourne as a lad!' Hodges looked smug.

'Oh, that'll be when they slid down the table!' Jones said then, a glint in his eye and one hand on his rifle, as the others laughed.

'Well now, seeing as you've seen fit to interrupt Captain Mainwaring's lecture, why don't you tell us when you want to play and then let him get on?' Wilson asked, not so much upset at the delay to a dreadfully dull lecture as by the sheer rudeness of the fellow.

'Three weeks on Saturday – you going to be ready by then?' Hodges looked over the men critically. 'Or was you thinking more like six months' time?'

'I think that's perfectly adequate,' Mainwaring glared at him. 'We'll be there. Now get out of my lecture, I am rather busy.'

Hodges left, just as Frazer enquired 'Cap'n Mainwaring? I hope you're no thinkin' of gettin' yon medicine ball oot again…?'

A couple of days later, the men arrived at the Recreation Ground for their first training session.

'Have you, er, ever actually played much football?' Wilson asked as Mainwaring surveyed his (mainly elderly) team.

'Oh yes...always played as a boy, you know…' Mainwaring replied, aware that this sweeping statement really meant following his brother Barry around in the hope that this time he'd be allowed to play, getting laughed at for being the fat ginger kid and going home on his own.

'Well, you know at school…' Mainwaring sucked in a sharp breath. '…each House had its own team… I played for ours for a while – once we won two years running!'

'Yes, well…did you bring that book I asked you about?' It didn't happen very often, but on this occasion, Wilson had remembered to bring something he'd asked for.

'Yes Sir, I did.' He handed over a copy of an exercise booklet produced by the Ladies League of Health and Beauty, which Mavis had been quite a follower of before the War.

Mainwaring looked at it in disbelief. 'Wilson! You said this was a training manual – it's nothing but ladies in bloomers! We can't have that sort of thing lying around, you know!'

'Mavis, Mrs Pike said it would help…' Wilson managed, vaguely waving a hand in an attempt to convey that it wasn't his idea.

'No, no, that won't do at all,' Mainwaring said, handing it back sharply and turning to the men.

'Platoon, attention!' shouted the ever eager Jones, following them just after they finished. 'Men are now ready for inspection, Sir,' he added, as his own foot came down.

'Thank you, Jones.' Mainwaring returned his enthusiastic salute. 'Now men, we're here today to get some practice in for our game on the 21st, and while it may be some time since some of us played, I'm sure we all did as children…'

'Mr Mainwaring?'

'What is it, Pike?' Why did that boy always have to interrupt?

'I didn't play Football, well, not much, 'cause if it was cold or raining or anything my Mum sent me to school with a note and I had to stay in. She said it'd set off my chest.'

'Really?' Mainwaring sighed. That was their best chance of a decent player gone…

'Yeah, um, actually she gave me one today to give to you 'cause she says it might turn nasty.'

'Take over the parade, Wilson,' Mainwaring beckoned the young man over. He wasn't giving up that easily.

'Now listen to me, Pike,' Mainwaring began when they were over by the goalposts. 'Do you mean to tell me that you won't play? It's a duty – you're on active service.'

'Didn't say that, Sir, just that I hadn't played much.'

'All right. Good. And please tell your mother not to send notes,' Mainwaring said, before adding, just to make sure he wouldn't moan if it rained, or some such, 'You wouldn't want your young lady to come down and not see you play, would you?'

'Oh, no Sir!' Pike answered, rather too enthusiastically for Mainwaring's liking, but at least it had the desired effect.

'Go on then, fall in. Wilson, how's the rest of the team looking?'

They were joined the following week by Mrs Jones, who'd borrowed a WVS tea urn after hearing that 'poor Mr Godfrey, he found it a bit nippy standing in goal…'and took the opportunity to let the Platoon know about the upcoming Dance.

'…so you're all invited, and of course any guests you'd like to bring,' she said, giving a somewhat saucy smile. 'It's the day before your Match, on the Friday!'

As soon as he got home, Pike wrote to Sylvia, asking her to the Dance, and to the Match if she could make it. It seemed so long since that strange, scary, amazing night together, and he had to see her soon if only to prove it hadn't been a dream. She'd look lovely dressed up for a dance…but he wasn't going to do what he did last time – there were other preparations in place. The first payments had been made, and while he could work out in his head exactly how long it would take to pay the money back, it was worth it. She was worth it. As soon as she could, Sylvia wrote back excitedly, equally eager to prove to herself she hadn't conjured up that night from her own overactive imagination…even if the prospect made the waiting here even harder to bear.

That evening, Sylvia did indeed look lovely. She had a pretty floral dress this evening that alternately hugged and skimmed the curves of her figure, bright red lipstick and her copper curls shone. Even so, faced with everyone who knew them, they didn't really know what to do, and ending up perching self-consciously over by the stage, not sure what to do next. Sylvia hadn't stopped smoking, and Pike just stared around the room and down at the floor trying to pretend he wasn't really that bothered that she was right next to him, because he couldn't just go and dance with her, could he? Not in front of everyone? They kept glancing over at one another though, trying to let the other know that they did want to, but…well, not in front of all these people…

'Wouldn't you like a drink?' he asked suddenly. That he could do. In Walker's absence, drinks had been arranged via the husband of one of the WVS ladies, who owned The Anchor in town.

'Oh, yes please. Can I have a Gin and Tonic?' Sylvia replied, feeling she needed it. She felt a little less anxious as she watched him cross the room, and smiled, none too innocently.

The WVS had put rather effort into decorating the Church Hall than the Platoon had managed when the Americans arrived, with various of their number stitching Maple Leaf flags and draping them around the stage, and had even found matching tablecloths. The Canadians themselves had brought the band, and she allowed herself to stop feeling quite so nervous. It was rather busy now, and she let her gaze wander about the room. There was quite a queue for the bar too…

'Hi.' Looking up, Sylvia smiled politely at the young serviceman who'd sat down beside her. 'I wonder, could you tell me if we're anywhere Bath around here? My mother just loves Jane Austen, and I said I'd be sure to get some pictures for her?'

'Bath? No, not really,' she said. 'It's on the other side of the country, closer to Wales.'

'That's a pity. Have you been there?'

'No, we went to Llandudno once, when I was a kid, you know, in Wales. To Butlins – that's a holiday camp,' she added, seeing his puzzled look.

'But you're from round here, right?'

'Yeah, Hastings. What about you?' Sylvia asked, more out of politeness than anything.

'British Colombia. Here…' He pulled out a small book, which turned out to be a photo album. 'That's our house,' he continued, indicating a log cabin by a mountain lake. It was beautiful, and Sylvia loved stories of exotic, far-away places, growing quite absorbed in shots of snow-capped peaks, dark forests and canoes cutting across still, silent lakes. She didn't even notice the way the young man was looking at her.

'I'm Geoff, by the way…' he said, extending his hand.

'Sylvia,' she smiled, and then pointed back to the photos. 'Where's this?'

Just as she asked her question, Pike had one for her. 'Sylvia?' His eyes flicked over the other man. 'Who's this?'


	10. Chapter 10

'Oh, this is Geoff,' Sylvia replied, with a smile, still quite oblivious. 'He was telling me about British Colombia!'

Pike glared at him with a look usually only reserved for her Uncle.

'Sylvia, you're here with me!' he sulked, and couldn't stop stamping one foot in consternation.

'What? I was only talking!' Sylvia replied, suddenly annoyed at the implication.

'Yeah, she was only talking…' Geoff began.

'You stay out of this!' she snapped back, too wound up to be polite. Geoff took one look at the situation, decided that there must be easier targets tonight, and sidled off, his eye fixed on the pretty blonde over in the corner.

'Yeah, but he wasn't!' Pike narrowed his eyes and looked at her, anxious and upset. Not her. It couldn't happen again with her…no-one ever really knew how it had hurt when Ivy went off with that Yank…he didn't even want to imagine how it would feel with Sylvia…

'What? OK, so he wasn't! What do you think I'd do, Frank?' She almost downed her drink in one, and glared back.

He didn't really know what to say to that. It wasn't what he thought she'd do that was the problem, but he didn't know how to say that.

'Yeah, but you're with me!' he managed, deciding to stick with what he was sure of.

At that, Sylvia took her drink and flounced off, her heels clacking over the parquet, and then the ground outside as she made for a small bench underneath the Parish notice board, feeling hurt. She knew that was what some of the boys on camp thought – that they only had to talk to a girl for longer than two seconds and they thought they were in with a chance, but she hadn't got that impression from Geoff and certainly wouldn't have done anything if he did! Is that what it looked like though? Is that what she looked like?

'Sylvia!' Pike called after her, still angry and starting to panic now, too. Catching sight of Wilson, he rushed over to him.

'Uncle Arthur, Sylvia's gone and I can't get her back! Get her back, Uncle, please!'

'Frank? What on Earth are you talking about?' Wilson asked, confused. He offered up a somewhat embarrassed smile to the Captain he was talking to, and beckoned the younger man off to one side.

'Well, there was this Canadian, and he was talking to my Sylvia, and she said she wasn't doing anything, and I don't think she was, but he was, well, he would, and then I said she was with me, and she got cross and now she's gone!' Pike finished, out of breath.

'Wait, Frank, gone where?'

'I don't know – out. See if she's outside, please?'

Wilson sighed. 'Frank, I really think you ought to go, not me. Tell her you know she wasn't doing anything she shouldn't.'

'Oh.' He hadn't been prepared for that. There was generally always someone else who sorted things out when he got something wrong, or got in trouble, and it was often Wilson.

'Go on,' Wilson said then, nodding towards the door. 'Go and find her.'

'Sylvia?' He found her on the bench, and stood there awkwardly.

'What?' She looked just as sulky as he felt when he'd first seen her with him, and the question made him flare up again.

'Why were you talking to him? You're my girlfriend!' He sounded much like he had when he was five and someone had taken the toy he wanted.

'Yes!' Sylvia stood up then, and faced him. She wasn't much shorter than he was, certainly not in heels, and wasn't backing down without a fight.

'Yes, I am! Do you really think I'd go off with just anyone, just 'cause they talked to me? Do you think that?' She took a quick, angry breath. 'You're just like all men, you think that as soon as a girl puts a uniform on, she's some sort of tart – fair game, and that's how she is! Well, you listen to me – I don't want to do that sort of thing with anyone else except…'

She stopped abruptly, realising what she'd been going to say, suddenly hot, breathing hard.

For a moment, Pike didn't notice she'd stopped speaking, and just stared at her in wonder. He'd never have been able to explain it, and would never deliberately seek to make her upset, but something about the force of nature that was his girlfriend in that moment was the most attractive thing he'd ever seen. She was beautiful…and he apparently had to say something.

'Umm…' That wasn't the best start. 'Didn't think you would…not really.' He couldn't quite meet her eyes, because if he did, he'd get lost in them. 'Just…you know…he would, 'cause…you're really pretty…' 'Pretty' wasn't the half of it…and what was she going to say?

'Oh…' Sylvia bit her lip slightly, and looked away too. She told herself he hadn't noticed what she was going to say, and sat back down. 'Well, you know…it's just…people think that, and…'

'Yeah…' Pike sat down next to her, not quite sure what was happening to him. 'Just…there was this other girl, and we went out once, and she went off with someone else…some Yank…Sorry.' This was worse than when he'd let the boat drift off that time.

Sylvia heard his apology, and took his hand. 'Well…she don't know what she's missing!' A sudden thought struck her, and she looked down at her feet.

'Do you still like her?'

Pike shook his head and shrugged. 'No,' he answered, honestly. 'Not now.'

'Good, 'cause, you know when I first met you, and I said your girlfriend would be jealous if she saw me?'

'Yeah?' He'd never forget that day.

'Well…I sort of meant it…you know, that I would, if it was me.' She'd never really admitted to being taken with him right from the start, and blushed to do so now.

'Did you?' He shifted somewhat uncomfortably, bunching up his jacket in his lap and thinking of how she'd looked just then.

'Yeah.' Her eyes were dark and mysterious in the moonlight. It made him nervous to feel there was much more there that he didn't understand, but couldn't look away either.

'You were nice too.' That was all he was really comfortable to admit just now. 'And the first time you came round here, you had a mark on the back of your skirt,' he added with a smile, feeling his heart race a bit as he remembered.

'Yeah – I did!' Sylvia laughed. 'Was you looking?' she added, a flirty smile on her face.

He certainly was. 'Yeah.' Her hand was warm in his, and she tilted her head towards him for a kiss. As she did, Pike seemed to make a decision.

'Come on,' he said, standing up.

'What?' she laughed. 'Fancy a dance?'

'No, come on!'

'What are you doing?' Sylvia asked, following after him, intrigued.

'Want to show you something!' Pike replied, giving her a flash of the smile that as far as she was concerned, would get him anything he wanted…it couldn't be that though, not here…anyway…

They ducked back into the Church Hall, and she felt herself led over to some stairs in the corner leading off from the main hall. Before they got there though, Pike couldn't help but look around for the Canadian interloper, noticed him apparently being turned down by the blonde, and when he was sure he wasn't looking (another lesson learned) stuck his tongue out at him and possessively wrapped an arm around Sylvia's waist. Mine, not yours!

Sylvia giggled at the sudden contact. 'What you doing?' she asked then as he turned back.

'Nothing…' He squeezed her a little closer, with a secretive little smile. 'Come on, up here!'

'What's up here?' she asked, following up the steps.

'You can see the sea!'

As it turned out, that wasn't all there was to see. Sylvia was surprised by what appeared to be some large upright piano or something that had clearly been dumped here at some point and forgotten about, in the middle of the room. In the light from the landing, she noticed something written on it. Going closer to see what it said, her eyes suddenly widened in surprise and a little shock.

'Well, I'm not doing that!' she exclaimed. 'Who wrote all that?'

'Oh, that's the Vicar's spare harmonium. We all to copy it, 'cause he wanted to know who wrote it,' Pike informed her conversationally.

'Oh, I see…' She couldn't quite stop looking now she'd started. 'Don't you ever say anything like that, or neither your Mum or mine'll have you back in the house!'

'Why, what does it mean?'

'Umm…' Sylvia didn't really know what to say. 'You know…that…'

He didn't understand at first, and then looked back at her, shocked. 'I wrote that?'

She nodded. They didn't quite meet the other's gaze for a moment.

'Umm, look,' Pike managed then, reaching back down to take her hand. 'If you keep all the lights off, and shut that door, you can take the blackout down and see the sea!'

'All right.' She crossed the small room, and gently sat down beside him by the window sill, quite illegally divested of its black painted board. 'You know my Uncle Bill'd go mad if he saw that?'

Pike shrugged. 'Yeah. But, look,' he said, shuffling closer to her, 'there, can you see it?'

To begin with, she couldn't really see in the darkness that was almost complete at night these days, but when the moon emerged from behind a cloud, it lit the cold waves, capping them in silver and tracing a path into the distance. Overhead, tiny points of stars glittered like diamonds. Seeing her adopted town like this was just about the loveliest thing Sylvia had ever seen. His arm was warm around her shoulders, pulling them close enough to feel one another's quickened, shallow breathing as the cool breeze teased at their hair.

'Ohh…it's beautiful…' Sylvia whispered, her fingers lightly running down Pike's sleeve to take his hand. 'Thank you.'

'You like it?' He watched her fingers entwine with his, and then looked up at her. 'It's nice, innit?' He rose to close the window, and put the board back in place before sitting down.

'Yeah.' They were facing each other now, still on their knees, leaning in close enough for their noses to nearly touch. With his other hand, Pike reached up and brushed a curl that fell just below her ear, making her almost pant. He let the curl fall, and took a deep, shaky breath.

'I love you,' he said, fighting the nerves that came with such an admission at the same time. 'More'n anything.'

'I love you, too.' Her own whispered confession escaped into the quiet room as she let her other hand rest on his thigh, tentatively at first, remembering she'd got in trouble for this. He didn't panic this time though, so did just as she'd done before, pressing harder now. Letting go of his hand, Sylvia gently pulled at the top button of his jacket as she kissed him.

He hadn't meant to, but the warmth of her touch being so close, almost too close to resist, brought his own hand down to the sheer fabric of her dress. Sitting as they were had pulled it tight, making the line of her stocking tops stand out in sharp relief. He traced them through the thin material, the sensation encouraging him to try something he'd only ever attempted once, only to be pushed off by Violet, who'd said it was 'slimy.' Still not really sure how this was meant to go, Pike opened his mouth slightly, taking hers with it, and experimentally touched the tip of his tongue to hers, still not absolutely convinced she'd like it, but needing to try, and then pretty much pulling her up on to his lap as she realised what he was doing and let her engulf him. It wasn't comfortable though, resting on his knees anymore, so Pike shuffled and stretched his legs out in front of him, pulling her up properly now on to his lap. Sylvia wrapped her arms tight around him, stretching her legs out too, before bending the top one back and anchoring one foot behind his thigh.

He wished she would and wouldn't wriggle so much at the same time. The leg she was resting on him was somehow a source of both pleasure and pain, pressed up as it was, the feel of those stocking tops still noticeable, even now. As their kiss deepened, her little moans grew faster, and she seemed to push more at her hips. Just then, a sudden giggle from the stairs made them jump apart, guilty and nervous.

'No, come on, no-one ever comes up here!' came a voice that Pike recognised as that of Sally Desmond, daughter of one of the other men in the Platoon. He and Sylvia stood up awkwardly as she fell through the door with one of the other Canadians, and looked at them, embarrassed.

'Oh, sorry!' Sally laughed. She'd clearly had rather more to drink than they had, and nodded at Pike. 'Your Mum's going frantic looking for you!'

They made their way around the other couple, trying not to meet their eyes, but not before Pike had answered her back that her Dad would be too, if she stayed up there. The last thing they heard was Sally's giggle as the graffittied harmonium was no doubt pointed out again.

'I'm not doing that! Saucy…!'

It was cold as the match began the following day, but clear, with the autumn leaves covering the pitch and bright against the still blue sky. The men were in good spirits, remembering their previous victory and keen to begin.

'Ye couldnae find Stanley Matthews this time then?' Fraser asked Hodges as they arrived, thinking back to his past attempt to enlist the talents of EC Egan.

Hodges glared back. 'Don't need him, mate – got these lads here!'

'Yes, it's good to see you're planning on a fair fight!' Mainwaring added, as they walked out on to the pitch.

'Oh, it'll be fair all right,' Hodges replied, and caught the Verger's eye. The Verger, in his referee's jersey, nodded grimly. Oh yes…it'd be fair…

'Look, there's Sylvia over there, and Mum!' Pike tapped at Wilson's arm eagerly. Wilson was quite thankful the game was starting soon – the boy had been so overexcited this morning…and he had some suspicions as to why.

The two women were standing by the side of the pitch, not exactly close to one another, but enough that they were talking, which Wilson took as a good sign.

'Oh, this takes me back, Mr Wilson!' Jones said, joining them. He'd been just as unmanageable as Pike, and Wilson guessed he was imagining himself back in some far flung corner of Empire, playing for his regiment as a young man.

'Do you know, back in the Bushveldt, we played this Australian contingent…?'

Wilson nodded to himself, and smiled as he let the old soldier tell his tale.

They took up their positions, with Mainwaring and Hodges facing one another in the centre, and the Verger blew his whistle.

'Play!'


	11. Chapter 11

It was quite fun, to begin with, Pike thought. He was enjoying the chance to play something he'd never usually been allowed to growing up, and it wasn't raining or even that cold. He kept glancing over too; to make sure she was still watching. Having Sylvia there, to show off for, really, made all the difference. Simply being the youngest there was enough for him to look reasonable, although Jones was giving it his all, and they seemed to be doing fairly well…just as long as they made sure to keep the ball away from the goal, as any attempt from the opposing team would require swifter movement than Godfrey was capable of. He might have a chance though, he thought, checking who the Wardens had in goal. They were bright enough not to have that short man there, but surely who they did have wasn't quick enough to be much of a deterrent?

On noticing Sylvia's little wave from the sidelines, Pike suddenly felt encouraged enough to try for a goal – it might even be the one that won the game, and how proud would she be then? The fact that he'd never attempted such a feat before didn't matter…how hard could it be? He called out excitedly to Jones, who'd powered his way up the field surprising quickly for a man of his years, treating the game like the battle it was, even if he did appear to get a bit dizzy after passing the ball, and tottered off to sit down at Wilson's request.

'…I'm all right, Mr Wilson…' he heard faintly, the words catching on the wind. 'That's just like I did that time playing for the Warwickshires…'

'Yes, I'm sure it was, Jonesy, but just…five minutes. Get your breath back.'

As it turned out, he needed rather more than five minutes. All of a sudden, an agitated Mrs Jones rushed over to the Verger, heedless of the men around her.

'Oh Mr Yeatman, it's Mr Jones!' she managed, clearly upset.

'Why? What's the matter with him?' The Verger was none too pleased at having his match interrupted.

'Yes, Mrs Jones, what's wrong?' Mainwaring asked.

'It's his Malaria! All this running about set him off again! We'll have to go home!' Mrs Jones was clearly flustered, anxious for her elderly husband.

'Oh, I see,' Mainwaring glanced over at Jones, who was still shaking. 'Yes, under the circumstances, he's excused – Wilson, take Jones's van and get them home. Sponge…' he continued, turning to the rather rotund man on the bench. 'You take Jones's place.'

'Right you are, Captain Mainwaring!' he answered, and made his way on to the pitch.

'Look, have you sorted things out yet?' Hodges asked then, not having paid too much attention to what was going on. 'Time wasting, that's what it is!'

'For your information, it's not time wasting at all!' Mainwaring snapped back. 'One of my men could have been taken very ill! Now, if you don't mind, we have a match to win!'

'Wait a minute!' Hodges wasn't finished yet. 'You swapped out one of your players. I'm swapping out one of mine!' This would clinch it, he was sure. Even if the lad couldn't have made the start of the match, he was here now.

'Henry, you change with Derek!' He grinned as the young man, only weeks away from joining the Marines, ran out on to the field. There was no way they'd win now!

'Have you all quite finished?' The Verger was getting impatient.

'Yes…' Mainwaring nodded, looking somewhat concerned at Hodges's substitution.

The Verger blew his whistle, revelling in his little moment of authority, and the match resumed. It quickly became clear that Derek could outpace any of the older men easily, and scored his first goal almost without trying. With his next, he faced Frazer's blood curdling cry head on, avoiding his aggressive tackle with ease, smacking the ball confidently into the back of the net.

'Ach, yon Godfrey, man!' a somewhat out of breath Frazer said, catching up with Pike on the wing. 'He's got no chance against that…we're doomed!'

'No, Mr Frazer!' Pike insisted. 'We've got to stop him!'

'Then it's down tae you, son,' Frazer replied, shaking his head. Heaven help us…

'Yeah…' For all his earlier showing off, actually attempting to take the ball off a man who was clearly bigger and better at the game than he was, was another matter entirely. He couldn't even think of an example from a film to copy, but here they were, in the second half of the second half, suddenly two goals down. If they lost, Hodges would be insufferable for weeks.

Both men had to push such doubts from their mind then, as they could suddenly chase the opposing team up the field, thanks to a temporary break in the Wardens' defences. Somehow, Wilson had managed to wrestle control of the ball from an irate Hodges, and with a swift kick, passed it to Pike. He was surely their best chance at a goal now, and so focused was he on trying not to miss, or trip, that Pike didn't notice that Derek had also raced up to their end, and bearing down on the lad he vaguely remembered from primary school as a Mummy's Boy cry-baby, smashed into him hard.

Pike hit the damp grass, feeling a sharp pain in his ankle as he did so. He heard the Verger's whistle, but could do nothing but push up to a semi-sitting position, holding his ankle and trying – really trying – not to get upset at how much it hurt or how embarrassing it was to have been brought down in front of the girl he'd been trying so hard to impress.

'Pike?' asked Mainwaring, hurrying up to him. 'Are you all right?'

'He cheated!' Pike shot a dark glare over at Derek.

Mainwaring agreed. He'd have a few words to say to the Verger if he let that other boy keep playing…

'Yes, well, never mind that now…'

'Frank!' Turning, the Captain groaned slightly. This was the second female pitch invasion and one far less likely to be deterred.

'I told you he shouldn't play, Mr Mainwaring!' Mavis admonished him, crouching down by her son, quite oblivious to everyone around her. 'Frank? Are you all right?'

He wasn't, really. His ankle hurt and he was starting to feel dizzy and a bit sick. And where was she?

'Mum? Where's Sylvia?'

The question caught Mavis unawares, and came as a shock. She'd always been the one there for him, and now he wanted someone else? Taken aback, she replied that Sylvia had gone to the Ladies', and could only watch as a couple of the other men helped him up and took him over to the bench. As she followed them, Mavis was surprised at just how tearful she felt. Not only was her baby boy hurt, but he didn't want her…Sitting down next to him, she couldn't help but remember comforting him when he fell taking his first steps, his cut knees as a child…anything, really, but he'd come to her. Always her. As Sylvia noticed them on her way back, the realisation that this was no longer the case sunk in, and it hurt.

'Frank?' Sylvia sat down to the other side of him, taking his hand. 'What happened?'

Mavis started to explain, but didn't get the chance. 'You see him there?' Pike asked, pointing at Derek with venom. 'He tripped me!'

'What? Well, what's he doing still playing?' Sylvia was incensed.

'Dunno…my ankle hurts and I feel sick.' He was past caring now.

The loss and unfair tackle of their default best player however, had a rejuvenating effect on the rest of the men, and the Platoon managed to scrape the game back to a draw in the final minutes. With one blazing Caledonian attack from Frazer and one lucky strike from Wilson, it wasn't a loss. Still, Mainwaring was of no mind to accept anything less than eventual victory, and promised his men that the re-match would be theirs.

'This is just the first round, men!' he declared afterwards. 'A valiant effort from you all. We may not have won this battle, but we'll win the war! That's the sort of men we are!' It was no victory, but everyone one of them determined that next time, it would be.

'Well now,' Wilson said then, having eventually escaped the clutches of an emotional Mavis. 'I believe Hodges mentioned the Red Lion, for all those who'd like to go?'

Pike spent the following week off work, and was excused all duties with the Platoon. His ankle wasn't twisted, but it was sprained, and Mavis took every opportunity she could to fuss over her son. It was nice, but it was Sylvia's last visit before she went back that stuck in his mind. It stuck in Mavis's too. Watching her, and watching him with her, Mavis had to concede that the girl was in love, and so was he. It didn't mean she felt ready to let go – she couldn't imagine ever really letting go, but she was coming to accept that Sylvia would look after her boy.

Ada Hodges was one of the stalwart band of women that made up Walmington on Sea's midwives. She was often to be seen out on her bicycle, large bag balanced precariously on the back, and worked out of the small local hospital. Since the War started, they'd never been so busy, as the young couples of the town reacted to events and often long separations the best way they knew how. Thankfully the telephone line that had been out of action for weeks, following bomb damage to the exchange at the time of Sylvia's prolonged stay in London, was repaired soon after. One morning in December, when she was expecting to see Sylvia for her birthday, she was asked to be on call for young Mrs Meadows, due any day now. Ada hadn't planned to be working, and certainly didn't want to miss her 21st, but Mrs Watson had just lost her son in North Africa, and was clearly in no fit state, Mrs Townsend was busy with ARP duties and Mrs Taylor had just left to join the WRENS.

'All right, Betty,' Ada said to Mrs Watson, at a loss to really know what to say. How did any mother come to terms with the reality of a child not coming back?

'I'll look after Mrs Meadows, don't worry,' she continued, hoping to offer at least some comfort to the distraught woman. 'I've got her notes…'

Ada had mentioned to Doreen Meadows that her baby might share a birthday with her daughter at her first appointment – and now it seemed like she would find out if she was right.

Some weeks previously, the men of the Platoon had decided to hold a Christmas party at the Church Hall. Given the overall success of the Turkey Dinner held some time ago for the local pensioners, it seemed an excellent idea.

'…and so that brings us up to Christmas…' Mainwaring continued, appraising his troops. 'Now I'm sure we'd all like to have some time off, but unfortunately, Hitler's damned untrustworthy. Wouldn't put it past him to launch a raid any time soon, thinking he'd catch us off guard.' He paused. The men weren't going to be keen on the thought of Christmas duties, but he had a plan that would hopefully help sweeten things.

'So for that reason, I want all our usual patrols to continue, but I had wondered if you would like to arrange some sort of function at the same time? All work and no play, and so on, and all Messes in the British Army celebrate the festive season, after all…'

'Permission to speak, Sir!' Jones piped up. 'We always had a Christmas Do, Sir, even out in the Sudan, but there wasn't no snow or anything, very hot for Christmas Day it was, and there was this one time where General Kitchener got us all together, like you're doing now, Sir, and he said, 'Boys…' At this, Jones put one hand on his hip in the strange way he did whenever quoting Kitchener. 'I want you to come up with ideas for a Christmas Do!' and so we got our wives and Mums to send out crackers, and puddings and the like, and we even decorated the Staff Camel!'

'Yes…' At last Mainwaring had a chance to get a word in edgeways. 'That all sounds very promising, so I'll leave that with you, Corporal, you sort out the details with the men, and let me know what you decide.'

'Oh, and you'll be pleased to know that we heard from Private Walker the other day,' Wilson added. 'He'll be down to visit Walmington over Christmas, and he's very much looking forward to seeing you all.'

A buzz of eager chatter went through the ranks at that.

'Eh man, if Joe's coming down, that'll be a party and no mistake!' Frazer remarked, in eager anticipation of what he might bring with him…

'I'm sure Cissy could provide some of her elderflower wine…' Godfrey replied. 'She made it over the summer…it should be just about ready by now, and Dolly makes a very good Christmas cake – you can hardly tell there's no eggs in it.'

'And I'll get on to Mr Boggis, Sir!' Jones continued. 'He's always been grateful for us helping to count those Turkeys! I'll see what I can do, and maybe get a few sausages to go with it, you know, those little sausages you get in bacon…'

'Oh, we haven't had those since the War!' Pike added excitedly. 'Can we have crackers too? And paper hats?'

'Course you can, Pikey!' Jones agreed enthusiastically. 'Now then, boys, when do you want it for?' After some further discussion, a date was suggested.

'All right, that's the 16th, I'll write that down…' Jones said, reaching into his pocket for a scrap of paper and pencil.

'Uh, Mr Jones?' Pike asked then. 'That's Sylvia's birthday…'

'Well, bring 'er along!' the old campaigner replied. 'I'll ask Mrs Jones, and Mr Godfrey, I expect your sisters'd like to come an' all…'

'Yeah, all right then! But we are having crackers, and presents?'


	12. Chapter 12

Mavis wasn't often ill, but on the morning of the Platoon's Christmas Party, she was. By the time Wilson presented himself for breakfast, all she'd managed to do was finish half a slice of toast and collapse in an armchair by the fire, coughing and spluttering.

'Mavis, my dear,' he exclaimed, looking over at her. She hadn't sounded well in the night, and was clearly no better now. 'You don't look at well. Why don't you go back up to bed, and I'll stay here and look after you?'

She turned to him, her nose streaming and buried in a large handkerchief.

'But what about the washing? And the cleaning? I can't stay in bed all day…'

'Oh, don't worry about all that,' he said, gently dismissing her concerns that someone might by chance come by and see her house as anything less than perfect. 'You just go up and get some sleep, and I'll bring you a nice cup of tea, does that sound all right?'

Mavis wasn't happy about the prospect of leaving him responsible for all things domestic, but she really wasn't feeling up to it either, and she had to admit, it was amazing what he could do when he put his mind to it…She smiled in spite of herself at that.

'But what about your Do tonight?' Mavis asked then, as she was just about to go back upstairs.

'Don't worry about that,' Wilson replied, one hand on her arm. 'I'll tell Frank to let Mr Mainwaring know you're not well, and I'll stay here. Now, shall I make you that tea?'

Later that evening, Ada was still waiting for the call from Mrs Meadows as Sylvia was getting ready to leave. She'd saved her coupons for her daughter, and had managed to scrap enough together for a new dress for her birthday. She smiled with pride as she came down to show it off.

'Oh Sylvia, you look lovely!' Ada felt slightly teary at the sight of her little girl all officially grown up and wished so much that her Stan could have been there.

'Thanks Mum!' Sylvia beamed, running her fingers over the floral pattern and admiring the way it held her slim curves. It was so nice to actually have the chance to be a girl these days, and she'd eagerly applied some bright red lipstick to go with it, along with a dab of perfume that had been hiding forgotten in a drawer.

'Now, I may not be here when you get back,' Ada continued. 'Mrs Meadows being near her time, and all, so make sure your Frank sees you home safe and take your key.' She wasn't overly happy at not being there that evening, but hoped that she'd raised a 'sensible' girl who wouldn't run the risk of any more gossip, given her previous experience. And anyway, he'd have to be home too, wouldn't he?

'You not coming then, Uncle Arthur?' Pike had asked again, just before he left.

'No, I'll stay here with your Mother. You two have a nice time,' he added, noticing the small present Pike had for Sylvia's birthday. He didn't usually take as much care wrapping presents, Wilson noticed, and wondered what he had bought.

'Oh, all right then. I'll tell Mr Mainwaring. Bye Mum!' he called then, standing at the bottom of the stairs, and receiving a snuffled reply in return.

He didn't actually see Sylvia's new dress until they arrived. It was a dark, cold winter's night, with a hint of snow in the air, and she was bundled up in a thick coat. As they arrived at the Church Hall, it was already filled with people, music and decorated with holly and all the paper chains and streamers the men could find.

'You remember Sylvia, don't you, Mr Jones?' Pike asked he insisted on announcing them, thinking back to when they'd first met.

'Oh, yes, I do, I remember!' he said, nodding and smiling at her, then turning to his wife. 'Marcia, you know Miss Hodges, don't you?'

'Yes dear!' Mrs Jones had technically met her the first time Pike had taken Sylvia out, but she probably didn't remember that, and since then had been talking to her at the Football Match, wishing there were still young ladies like her around to swell the ranks of the WVS.

'So lovely to see you again! Won't you put your coat away and come and sit down?' she continued effusively.

When she came back, the pretty curve of her bust was only covered by a soft red cardigan and the dress itself, while the bottom half clung to her thighs. No material had been wasted, as per the regulations, making skirts that bit shorter, that bit tighter. Her hair caught the light like the tinsel wrapped around the stage, and Pike couldn't take his eyes off her. He couldn't have been more grateful for Walker's arrival just then, distracting everyone's attention and letting him gaze at her in wonder as he took her hand and led her over to an empty place at the table.

'You all right?' Sylvia asked, smiling as they sat down.

'Yeah…' It took quite a lot not to ask her to marry him on the spot. He looked away for a moment, fiddling unnecessarily with the crackers and cutlery, before remembering himself sufficiently to hand over her present.

'Happy Birthday!' he said, the excited spark lighting his eyes again as her hand brushed his slightly as she took it.

'Thank you!' Sylvia worked at the pretty paper, eager to see what it was. 'Oh, that's so pretty!' she exclaimed, stroking a finger over the powder compact that couldn't have been easy to find, and snapped it open to reveal foundation and even a couple of pale blushes. The powder was quite thick, as if it had been kept for quite some time, but to Sylvia, it was like stardust.

'Where did you find it?' she asked, her eyes wide.

'On a stall down the market, hidden under a load of other stuff!' He was clearly proud of his find, and had bought it both for the pretty pattern on the lid, and the fact that he liked thinking of Sylvia making herself up…not that she didn't look lovely anyway, but just knowing the effort she'd gone to made it special.

Over by the doorway, a small crowd had gathered around Walker, keen to welcome him back.

'Mr Mainwaring, Sir, it's Private Walker, he's come back to us!' Jones announced eagerly.

Mainwaring hadn't always agreed with the tactics and attitude of the sharp Londoner, but he had to admit it was good to see him back again, and shook his hand heartily.

'How are you, Walker?' he asked, a smile lighting his face.

'I'm all right, Mr Mainwaring! 'Ere, it's good to be back – I missed the old place, you know!' Walker said with a grin.

'Well, we're very glad to see you. And, er…Miss?' Mainwaring gave a rather more forced smile to the rather brassy looking girl who'd arrived with him.

'Oh yeah, this is Kitty. Kitty Lamour,' Walker replied, casually putting an arm around her waist.

'Miss Lamour.' Mainwaring nodded stiffly.

'She's with ENSA – you know, on the stage an' that!' He decided it was probably best his former Commanding Officer didn't know exactly what she did on the stage…

'Yeah – you should see my show sometime,' the girl giggled. 'I'm dead good, ain't I, Joe?'

'You're the best, darlin'!' he replied, smiling at the prospect of being able to enjoy her 'show' all to himself that night. 'Now, what do you fancy?'

The Christmas Dinner turned out to be almost as good as something from before the War. A few bottles had been provided, no questions asked, thanks to Walker, as well as Cissy's elderberry wine, and Mr Boggis had expressed his appreciation with a fine turkey as promised. Having said a few words to open the evening, Mainwaring then found himself sitting down opposite a man he didn't recognise, and was about to introduce himself when Major Pritchard did it for him.

'Captain Mainwaring, I don't believe you've met Major Bailey?' he asked, nodding at the other man.

'No, I don't think I have,' Mainwaring stood up then to shake the Major's hand. 'Welcome to Walmington on Sea, Sir. Good to see you here tonight.'

'Yes, I've heard a lot about this Platoon,' Major Bailey replied, taking a sip of Walker's sherry as he sat down. 'Major Pritchard has told me all about your chaps – they've put a good show on tonight!'

'They have indeed, Sir.' Mainwaring preened slightly at the compliment. 'Can always rely on my men, you know.'

'And where is Sergeant Wilson tonight?' Pritchard asked then. 'Not like him to miss a good do.'

'Er…' Mainwaring hesitated for a moment. It wouldn't do to go into too much detail here. 'He was called away to sit up with a friend who is unfortunately unwell.'

'Oh, well, sorry to hear that. You'd like Wilson,' Pritchard continued to Major Bailey. 'He's a good chap.'

Mainwaring nodded. At least some scandal had been avoided.

'Major Bailey is with the Marine unit just outside Eastbourne,' Pritchard said, taking a drink himself. 'Just come up here from Lympstone, you know.'

'Yes, just getting to know the lay of the land, meet the local commanders…' Major Bailey nodded.

'I see. And what brought you up here, Sir?' Mainwaring asked.

'Well, I was with the recruit training company down there, and the powers that be decided the forward deployed units in the south east needed a bit of licking into shape, so I'm working here to design a programme that should sort them out!' Major Bailey said proudly.

'Really?' Mainwaring's interest was sparked. 'That's Marine training, I take it?'

'Of course – why, do your men fancy a go?' Major Bailey asked, a smile on his face.

'Well…I don't see why not…' Mainwaring hoped he sounded as though he was familiar with Marine training, and wanted to know more even if he didn't.

Major Bailey laughed. 'You certainly like a challenge, Captain! It's all right for the young lads coming through, but your men might find it a bit much!'

'Oh, I don't know….No harm in finding out what's involved,' Pritchard said then, intrigued now as to Mainwaring's plans.

'No, please – always glad to hear of new training methods!' Mainwaring agreed eagerly.

Major Bailey smiled, and set his cutlery down. 'Very well. Have you ever visited Dartmoor…?'

Mainwaring listened with interest. It was a challenge, and no mistake, but his men were brave, resourceful and loyal to the last. If they just had a chance…they'd probably prove themselves as the best Platoon in the country…As he took down the details, a plan was forming in his mind…

Later that evening, Walker was helping Pike clear up after a game that had gone down very well after a couple of bottles of black market whiskey, sherry and port, and eventually had his chance to find out some more about the girl he'd brought.

'So that's Sylvia?' he asked, trying not to sound surprised. She wasn't what he'd been expecting – well, not exactly. He hadn't expected him to hold on to any girl for longer than a couple of weeks, let alone one that looked, well, nice…not like Kitty, of course, but better than that mousey girl who'd been there that night with the Yanks…

'Yeah!' He could hear the pride in the younger man's voice, and was starting to see why he wanted to marry her. It didn't seem like anyone else knew that yet though.

'So, er, this ring you asked about?' Walker began, taking him over to one side. 'Does she know?'

'No.' Pike darted a quick look back at Sylvia, still sitting at the long table and sipping at some elderberry wine. 'And don't tell her – or Mum.'

Walker raised his eyebrows as he remembered Pike's formidable mother. 'You are going to tell 'er though – this time?'

'Course I will,' Pike muttered. He just wasn't sure how.

''Ere, where is your Mum tonight?'

'She's home sick – been in bed all day.'

Walker noted the absence of Wilson as he said that, but didn't say anything. Maybe she really was ill, but…well…

'So, reckon we can start the dance now?' he asked suddenly. Some things were better unsaid – true or not.

Sylvia hadn't liked the look of the flashy, fake blonde London girl, and had she been able to see herself in a mirror, would have been surprised at how territorial she'd looked as the girl sat down beside them. She'd calmed down somewhat though, as it became apparent she was all over that bloke she came with, and he seemed just as keen on her. She took another sip of her wine, and leaned on the table, her eyes on her boy. She'd been round to their house the day before, to pick up her Christmas present, which was apparently a two man job. Intrigued, Sylvia arrived slightly earlier than arranged, and was sitting somewhat awkwardly in Mavis's 'best' parlour, waiting, when her Frank came in.

'Frank!' That was Mavis, her nose red already. 'You could have tidied yourself up a bit before going to see Sylvia!' She looked up; her brow furrowed slightly, and was suddenly glad to be sitting down.

He'd obviously been working on something, and had rolled his sleeves up to the elbow. A couple of dark strands of hair had come loose, and he hastily brushed them back out of his eyes. There was what looked like an odd piece of copper wire sticking out of his pocket, and he blushed as ever as she caught his eye.

'Hello…I've been making your present,' Pike said, noticing she looked quite hot too, but guessed that was being next to the fire.

Sylvia didn't reply straight away, her gaze fixed on his forearms. 'My present?' she asked then, sounding caught out and suddenly feeling very hot.

'Yeah – just finished it.' He leaned on the back of another chair, trying not to stare at her leg disappearing up into her heavy winter skirt.

'What d'you mean?' She was trying not to show that her breathing felt noticeably faster.

'Made you a wireless set!' Pike said then, pride shining through at that.

'What, really?' Sylvia was impressed. She knew he'd said he could make them, but hadn't been expecting such a present, and felt a wave of adoration for the young man thinking of the time he'd spent on her. It did take a bit of effort to bring home though…

She came back to the party as the music started up. This wine was quite nice – she'd never had any before, and let her gaze linger on him just a little longer…


	13. Chapter 13

'Have you ever had wine before, Frank?' Sylvia asked, feeling a bit giggly and not minding the couple of drifting snowflakes that touched her cheeks in the slightest.

'Yeah,' Pike replied, squeezing her hand a little tighter and looking down with a smile. 'There was this lady Mr Godfrey knew, and she had a farm, and we went to help with the Harvest! She made this wine, and we all had some, 'cause Uncle Arthur said I could!'

'Ooh…' She laughed, and leaned into him slightly. 'Aren't you sophisticated?'

'Yeah, sort of!' Pike agreed, tending as he did to think of himself as an undiscovered film star. 'And at Mr Jones' wedding – I did then too!'

'I never did,' Sylvia smiled. 'It was nice.'

They rounded the corner then, and walked the short distance down to Sylvia's house. As they came closer, Sylvia stopped, her hand still in his.

'Umm…well, I'd better be going…thank you…'

'Did you have a good birthday?' He could feel how close she was.

'Yeah.' It was cold, but just now, Sylvia didn't feel it.

'Here,' she continued, pulling something from her handbag. 'Birthday kisses…'

'Is that mistletoe?' Pike asked, trying to see the sprig of foliage she was waving about. 'My Mum says you shouldn't touch that…' He didn't sound convinced, though.

'Why? Not going to eat it,' she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and letting it fall.

She was warm on the cold night, and pressed herself up so tightly that Pike could still feel her under her thick coat, and her touch sent his pulse racing as he was slightly pushed back against someone's fence. It was too dark to see her properly, but he knew how she was looking up at him, and by now, had a pretty good idea what that look meant.

'Thank you for my Birthday.' Her voice was lower than usual, and he pulled her in closer. It still scared him, the things she made him want, the things she made him feel, but she was irresistible at the same time. It was confusing and exciting and unstoppable. Her chest heaved as she took a deep, shaky breath, then her lips were on his, pushing them open with rather more force than he'd dared use with her. The alcohol on their lips merged with her lipstick and cigarettes, and her perfume hung on the frozen air. As their kiss slowly broke, there was the strange feeling it was almost a promise – quite what that promise was, they couldn't admit, but they'd made it, all the same. Breathing hard, unreasonably hot, they didn't know quite what to say for a moment.

'Well… I'd better be going…' she managed, and fished about in her bag again.

'Oh…' This didn't sound good.

'What's wrong?'

'I haven't got my keys,' Sylvia said, looking worried.

'What? Well, your Mum's home, isn't she?'

'She might be – she's on call for Mrs Meadows tonight though,' Sylvia explained, knocking at the door. The sound carried on the night air, but no-one answered.

'Umm…' He was meant to look after her, Pike knew. She couldn't stay out here in the cold all night, but his Mum probably wouldn't like her being in their house that late…He didn't like to think of him as a possible solution, but…

'Is your Uncle in?'

'No,' Sylvia replied, looking down at the ice forming on the ground. 'He's gone to some Old Comrades Reunion…'

'Umm, well…' He didn't get the chance to finish.

'You don't mind waiting with me?' Her question was soft, gentle.

'Well, not here…' Pike wasn't keen on standing out in the cold all night.

'No, I don't mean here…' Her glance flickered up to him, and then she looked away.

'Come round the back gate – we could wait in the Shelter…'

'You what?' He sounded nervous. 'Can't do that…what someone sees?'

'Not tonight…no-one will see…and you wouldn't want to wait out here all night? Just for a bit?'

Her hand caught his then, and she stepped a little closer. He should have known he couldn't resist…somehow, Sylvia could convince him of anything. He just hadn't found out that he could do the same back.

'Well…all right. Just for a bit…'

'Come on, then. Round the back gate!' At that, Pike found himself being pulled along after his pretty redhead down a back lane, and bundled in through a small gate.

'Careful!' he said then, as her heels skidded on the icy path. 'It really hurts getting a sprained ankle, you know!'

'Sorry!' Sylvia felt giggly again. 'Come on, down here.' She pulled the corrugated iron door too, holding her breath as it scraped against the hard ground.

'There's a torch here somewhere…' she continued, feeling about inside. 'There! And candles!'

She shone the torch on the candles on the small table opposite the bunks, and lit them, replacing the harsh electric beam with a far softer glow and a little warmth. There wasn't much room, and Sylvia smiled as she wriggled past Pike to sit on the lower bunk. He didn't seem sure what to do with himself, and was starting to worry that this wasn't a good idea after all, but at the same time, he couldn't just leave her, could he?

'Sit down.' Her hand took his again.

'All right.' He sounded anxious, and was trying not to show it, which only made it worse. There wasn't a lot of room on the bunk either, and neither could sit up straight.

'Still cold, isn't it?' Her voice was close, soft and a little nervous.

'Yeah.'

'My back hurts sitting like this.' There was a pause before she continued. 'D'you mind if I just sort of…stretch out?'

'What?' It was sensible, Pike knew. His back hurt too, but there was no way she should…so why did he turn around to look at her, a shadowy vision in the candlelight, still in her coat, hat and shoes on the floor by his feet.

'That's better!' Sylvia smiled, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. There would be no way of explaining this.

'Yeah.' He couldn't look away. They were quiet for a moment, watching the candle flicker as silent snowflakes settled on the cold earth above.

The question, when it came, took Pike by surprise. 'Frank? Do you remember your Dad?'

'No.' Crouching and half turned around to talk to her was really uncomfortable now. 'Mum says he died when she was expecting me.'

'You're lucky,' Sylvia sighed, a sad smile on her face. 'The War had just started when I lost mine. He wasn't killed or anything – the doctor said it was his heart. I think that's why I joined up as soon as I could, you know. To forget. I mean, the girls are nice, and I get to drive all sorts, all over the place, but…' Her voice trailed off.

'Yeah.' She seemed sad still, and Pike didn't like seeing her sad. He dropped his own hat down by hers, and without really thinking, shuffled up alongside her on the narrow bunk.

'Wish he could have been there tonight,' Sylvia continued. It was lovely, to be this close, but the unshed tears were real.

'Your Dad?' They were opposite one another now, every inch touching.

'Yeah.' An unfamiliar wave of protectiveness and loss for something he'd never really had washed over Pike as Sylvia cuddled up to him, their breath like smoke in the cold air. He'd never felt more in love as she gazed up at him and he wrapped an arm around her.

'I think he'd be proud.' Her chest was warm, and starting to rise and fall against his. 'Cause you're the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.' It was a whispered confession that set his heart racing and her breathing grew shallow as they found one another in the dim light. Kisses before weren't like this. They'd both, if they were honest, dreamed of such things, but had never truly believed, or at least, in Pike's case, not without the sequence of events that needed to fall into place to place him at some cocktail bar in Hollywood, surrounded by beautiful starlets eager for a part in his new film.

He hadn't meant to be leaning over her, he really didn't, but the sight of Sylvia's russet curls gently flattened against her pillow when their kiss broke was mesmerising. She held his gaze intently, blushing when it dropped to her chest.

'You hot now?' Her words were soft as her fingers reached up to unbutton her heavy coat. Wriggling, Sylvia pulled her arms free, and felt her cheeks burn as the young man stared, fascinated, as she repeated her action, letting her cardigan fall open and leaving her neckline exposed.

You like them, don't you, she thought, settling back down, lips slightly parted, watching him. 'D'you need that coat?' she continued. 'Never mind that scarf!'

'No…' Generally speaking, Pike could be confident bordering on cocky, and she could both strengthen that tendency and work against it, making him shy and nervous in ways he'd never admit. The strange thing was he didn't want her to stop, either. He shouldn't – they shouldn't – be doing any of this, but…

'…no…all right…' he managed, feeling both extremely self-conscious at taking anything off around her and wanting to see her reaction when he did. Sitting as best he could, he pulled at them, dropping them to join hers on the mismatched lino offcuts that covered the damp floor.

'Tie?' Her fingers were on it, and she sounded both hopeful and a little frightened. This was further than she should ever have gone, already.

'What?' The nerves kicked in again, but as she asked, he loosened it, almost unconsciously. A flicker of light caught her eyes then, and a spark of excitement lit their darkness. It partly made Pike want to run, but mostly made him want to see it again, and find out what it felt like to kiss her now, without a thick coat in the way. Leaning down, he found she felt warm; hot even, soft…just so different…

Sylvia couldn't resist, and pulled him down tightly. Her skirt had rucked up around her waist and small patches of her thighs were exposed, framed against stocking tops and the thick straps holding them in place. As she did so, their eyes met, heat and uncertainty showing in both. He didn't know what to do next, she thought, and also knew the last thing he'd do would be tell her.

'Frank?' she asked then, blushing at the thought.

'Yeah?' He could feel her under him.

'D'you want to…' She stopped there, and reached for his hand, placing it lightly on the curve of her breast.

She wasn't altogether surprised when he pulled it back, but she'd felt the reaction and seen the look that flashed in his eyes just before he looked away.

'I can't.' It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 'You can't…can't touch ladies there...'

'You can if you're asked.' She caught his hand, and tried again. This time, he didn't pull away, and they watched, fascinated, as he tentatively followed its form. Soft, but firmer than expected, and the peaks felt like little bullets, Pike thought. Why's that bit so hard when the rest is soft?

She gave a soft sort of sigh when his finger brushed there, and her hips pushed up slightly, making a jolt go through him in response. It wouldn't mean the same thing…would it? Them feeling like little bullets? It was something (one of many things) no-one had ever told him, and as such he'd never even considered it a possibility, but what if that meant girls liked something – really liked something?

Still not quite convinced, Pike drew his hand back, waiting to see what she would do next.

'Go on.' Her eyes were closed, and her thighs felt warm against his waist. 'It's nice…'

'Is it?' A touch of pride and considerable relief tinged his words. 'This is?' His heart racing, he ran his hand over her again, hoping for, and getting, that same push from her hips. Feeling what she was pushing against only made Sylvia want to do it harder, and her breathing was coming faster now. Her eyes flicked open, and she arched her back slightly into his touch. The dress fabric stretched tight across her breasts at her sudden movement, and the pattern and straps of her bra stood out beneath the cotton print.

They were being stroked harder now, as enthusiasm and excitement triumphed over inexperience, and she kept making that same jolt into him that was making things increasingly uncomfortable, as did her little cries and moans, and her hands on his back. She'd have to stop – soon – and that was the absolute last thing Pike wanted her to do, but…she really did need to, before…

Just then, her voice, sounding softer than he'd ever heard it, whispered something.

'I want to…' Sylvia's eyes were closed again, and as she spoke, he felt a sudden shake seem to go through her, and then she was quite still, surprisingly still, as her breathing gently slowed.

'Sylvia?' Pike wasn't sure what happened there. There was a possibility, but…surely not…no-one ever said girls did that…His thoughts trailed off, and he wasn't sure what to think. Never mind how else she'd affected him, and still was…

'You all right?'

She smiled at the innocent question.

'Yeah…' Her voice was still soft, like waking from a dream. 'I love you, Frank…'

'I love you.' He didn't really know what the right thing to do was now, so settled for putting an arm around her and just holding her close. It was a few minutes before either spoke again, trying to make sense in their own minds of what had just been.

'Umm…you sure you'll be all right here?' Pike asked then. 'Till your Mum comes back, 'cause…'

'Oh. Yeah…you best get home,' Sylvia felt reality creep in. 'What'll your Mum say?'

'Don't think my Uncle'll tell her,' Pike answered honestly. 'She's still in bed – flu, I think.'

'Oh…' She felt rather awkward at that. 'Sorry…'

'It's all right.' He flashed her a little smile at that. 'Had to look after you, didn't I?'

'Yeah, well…' She wasn't sure how much to admit. 'You did – really did.'

'OK, yeah…' He found the clothes he'd dropped, and pulled them on. Still feeling rather warm and tingly inside, in spite of the cold air, Sylvia pulled the blankets up over herself, watching him.

'Happy Birthday.' Leaning down, this kiss was rather shy in comparison, but just as sweet.

'Merry Christmas.'

As he left, Sylvia lay back, staring up at her mother's bunk above. Some minutes later, she reached down and pulled out her handbag. She reached inside, and drew out a key. Blushing, she had to admit, this time, she did plan it – well, some of it. She hadn't planned that…Not for the first time, it struck how wrong some of her earlier impressions of this boy really were, with her, at least. He was far more – interesting – than that, and she was still working it all out. Rolling the key around in her hand, Sylvia knew she'd have to go in soon, and moments later, let herself into the empty house.

It was some time though, before either slept that night.

Author's note: For those unfamiliar with the Anderson Air Raid Shelter, these were corrugated iron constructions built into the ground in people's gardens and used in Britain during the Second World War. It's most likely the type of shelter both Frank and Sylvia would have had at home.


	14. Chapter 14

About a month after Christmas, Mainwaring received a call from Major Bailey. Eager to share the news, he called Wilson into the office at the Bank.

'Was it the Bluetts' account, Sir?' Wilson asked, reflecting that he'd really, practically finished it by now…there was no need to keep chasing him for it…

'Oh no, I can't be looking into that now,' Mainwaring shook his head and sat further forward in his chair. 'I wanted to speak to you about taking the Men down to Devon!'

'Devon?' Wilson looked puzzled. 'Why?'

'Don't you remember? I told you about my meeting with Major Bailey weeks ago!'

'Oh, the Marine chap, yes…' That didn't really make it any clearer.

'Well, he's arranged some training for us!'

'In Devon? Won't it be rather cold at this time of year?'

'Quite possibly. Survival Exercise, Wilson!' Mainwaring replied enthusiastically, only for the look in his eyes to fade somewhat as he took in the rather less than impressed expression on Wilson's face.

'Survival Exercise?'

'Yes!' He wasn't going to let this reaction dampen his spirit. 'What better way to train the Men? Look at France – Resistance fighters hiding out, hitting the enemy! Living off the land too, I shouldn't wonder – that's just the sort of warfare we need to be prepared for!'

'We're not going to be eating any hedgehogs, I hope?'

'Oh, no…no hedgehogs on Dartmoor,' Mainwaring asserted breezily. 'But this is Marine training! If our chaps can manage this, they can take anything Hitler can throw at us!'

Wilson raised his eyebrows at that. 'Aren't most of them, you know, a little too old, for that sort of thing?'

'Nonsense! We've got a determined bunch here, Wilson! Now, I'll get these orders typed up, and I'll brief them on Parade tonight – we'll soon show those Navy chaps what we're made of!'

'…and so I will expect all of you at the train station next Friday morning at…eight hours..?' Mainwaring announced later that evening.

'Eight hundred hours,' Wilson finished, a little smile lighting his face for the first time since this whole ghastly business had been mentioned.

'Eight hundred hours,' Mainwaring repeated, pretending he hadn't said anything. 'So…'

'Permission to speak, Sir!' Jones had been bubbling at Mainwaring's announcement, and could clearly contain himself no longer. 'I can't wait, Sir! I'm ready to take on anything they throw at me, and I'll be right there, ready with the old upward thrust, Sir, 'cause they don't like it, you know, they do not like it…'

'He never said we'd be fighting 'em!' Frazer cut him off sharply. 'More moving across country, hiding out, not bringing 'em doon on us!'

'Like when the wagon train crosses the hostile Indian territory – just like that, isn't it, Mr Mainwaring?' Pike asked then, clearly imagining himself in some sort of shootout in the old West, causing a familiar look of exasperation to cross the Captain's face.

'No, it isn't, you stupid boy!' Was he really getting married before too long? 

'Well, it could be! They could be out there watching us and then suddenly rush in, out of nowhere, just like that!'

'There won't be too much rushing, Sir, will there?' Godfrey asked then. 'I shall do my best, of course…'

'Don't you worry about that, Mr Godfrey,' Jones said then, seeking to reassure him. 'You stay with me, and we'll get there no problem, just you see!'

'Aye, and who's looking after you?' Frazer asked then, turning to Jones.

''Ere, I can look after myself, Jock!' Jones replied, offended at the implication.

'All right, all right, Jones, Frazer, settle down!' Mainwaring interrupted them sharply. 'We will all take responsibility for ourselves and one another. Now, I will give you further instructions when we reach Okehampton camp, but in the meantime Sergeant, take the Men through those slides on Fieldcraft there…must be well prepared.'

It was a long journey down, and late when the Platoon arrived. They were taken to the camp, and settled there for the night before being met by Major Bailey the following morning.

'Now this exercise will be in two phases,' Major Bailey explained. 'Today is all about working together to reach your Objective here,' he tapped it on the map 'while keeping an eye out for my men who will be seeking to prevent you from consolidating your position. You will then set up your camp overnight, and then you will break off into two separate sections as if you have lost the rest of your Platoon in action, and each section Commander is responsible for getting his men back to this point here.' He indicated the camp as shown.

Mainwaring had already made up his mind to be first back as Section Commander, when Major Bailey continued.

'After some discussion with my Staff, we have decided to nominate the Section Commanders here today, and assign their men accordingly.' He looked down at his notes, and read out the names of those in one section, 'to be led by Private Frazer', and then the second, 'to be led by Private Pike.'

Frazer couldn't have looked prouder at the rare opportunity to take charge. 'Aye, I'll no let you down, Sir!' He ran a critical eye over the men under his command – they'd better all pull their weight – he wasn't carrying any passengers!

Mainwaring, however, was far from happy with the situation. Not only was he not in charge, Major Bailey had somehow seen fit to put that stupid boy in charge of him, and Pike just looked unsure.

'Sir, I feel I should point out that I am not only this boy's superior in the Platoon, I am also his Manager at the Bank!' Mainwaring's face was quite red as he attempted to make Major Bailey realise his mistake.

'I'm aware of that, Captain. You should all be aware though, of the speed at which things can change on the ground – it's quite possible that junior Soldiers could be required to command. Now, are there any questions?'

Dartmoor in February is a cold, dreary place, and by the time the Platoon reached the old empty barn that was to be their camp that night, it had not been improved by blank ammunition being fired over their heads, bogs and having to devise methods of transporting Godfrey up the formidable Tors. As if that wasn't enough, tomorrow the real tests would begin.

'An excellent effort today, men,' Mainwaring looked exhausted himself. 'Keep that up, and tomorrow's navigation exercise should see us all back on camp before we know it! Frazer, you have your maps to hand…you too, Pike?'

'Aye, I have that Sir!' Frazer had been checking them compulsively throughout the day, at any spare moment. This was his opportunity to impress on the Captain that he was the clear choice should he ever decide to expand his small team of NCOs, and he wasn't leaving anything to chance.

'What about you, Pike?' Mainwaring repeated his question, still sceptical at the idea of him leading anyone.

'Oh, yes, I've got them!' He'd had some time to think about it since the Major had announced it, and was quite looking forward to it now. 'And don't forget I got Elementary Tracking in the Scouts, so I know all about reading maps, don't I, Uncle Arthur?'

'Yes, yes, you did, Frank. Very well done.' Wilson really wanted nothing more than for all this to be over as soon as possible. Getting cold and wet scrambling over the wild moor was not his idea of an enjoyable weekend in the slightest…

'You know, I came down to Torquay once with my sisters,' a weary Godfrey said from the corner. 'There was a little tea shop on the sea front…it did the most wonderful Cream Teas…'

'Oh, I could just eat a Cream Tea now, Mr Godfrey!' Jones replied enthusiastically. 'I don't suppose they do them now…I remember this one time in India though, when we was Guard of Honour for the wedding of a young Second Lieutenant, and him and his young lady had all these buns sent over from England, jam, cream, an' everything, and we all had some, only they'd got a bit wet 'cause of the Monsoon, you know, gets very wet in the Monsoon it does, but they was some of the best I ever had…you don't get 'em like that any more…'

'No, Jonesy, you certainly don't. I was only thinking just now about a lovely place I knew in Paignton…' Wilson added, attempting to find some vaguely comfortable position on the rough floor.

'That's very true,' Mainwaring agreed. 'I didn't know you'd been down here before, Wilson?'

'Oh, yes, long time ago now Sir…'

'Yeah, you were living down here when you met Mum, weren't you? Why don't they ever ask us down to visit?'

There was a somewhat awkward silence at that, broken by Mainwaring.

'And what about you, Frazer? All these ports – you must have been here with the Navy?'

'I have indeed, Sir, I have indeed.' Frazer paused, looking around the room. 'I mind the time I was here once before, must be near on thirty years ago, with an old shipmate of mine…'

Suspecting what was to come, Mainwaring was starting to regret asking.

'One night, Jack had asked us all up to drink with him in a wee pub he knew just on the edge of the Moor, when we were alongside…'

'Alongside what, Mr Frazer?' Pike asked then.

Looking somewhat put out at being interrupted, Frazer explained tetchily. 'Alongside – means in port! Well, at the end of the evening, we had tae make our way back to the farm where we were stayin', and it was a dark, black night we walked oot into…aye, a night very like this. Now, Jack, he knew the Moors like the back o' his hand, but in all his years, he'd never seen the sight that met oor eyes as we went to cross that last bridge…there was a howl, and standing there was a hound!' He stopped again, looking for a reaction. 'That hound, he said, was not of this Earth! We tore across the bridge, running, running from the hound, and daren't stop until we'd locked and bolted the door behind us – the cries of the beast ringing in oor ears…'

'What happened then, Mr Frazer?' He'd got his attention, at least.

'Well son, the morning came, but I'll never forget that howl…not of this Earth, I tell ye, not of this Earth!'

'Stop rolling your eyes, Frazer, and get some sleep.' Mainwaring had lost patience by now. 'Long day in the morning.'

'What about that hound, Uncle?' Pike asked Wilson just as he had managed to drop off.

'Really, Frank, there's no hound. Now, do go to sleep.'

Pike shuffled slightly, still somewhat concerned, but soon found his thoughts wandering to his 'beautiful girl'. It had been a long time since he'd seen her, and he both missed her dreadfully and was still rather worried by what had happened last time – particularly considering how much he wanted it to happen again. What was she doing now? He daydreamed about her almost constantly in the back of his mind, even today, and that made it rather more bearable, imagining how impressed she'd be when he told her about it, and wishing she was there.

The next morning, the two groups set off early, both keen to get back to camp. To begin with, Pike's leadership of the Section was going fairly well, until they came to a stop, certain that they had been there before.

'Look, why don't you give me the map, boy!' Mainwaring said, exasperated.

'No Sir, it's my map – Major Bailey said so!' A sulky look crossed Pike's face. It was a look Mainwaring knew all too well.

'Frank, come on now, just let Mr Mainwaring check.' Wilson attempted to calm the situation.

'But I know where we went wrong, Uncle!' Pike wasn't about to give up that easily. 'I can find it again, look!' He pointed at something on the map. 'If we go up there, along that river, we'll find this little village, and can get back from there!'

Wilson glanced at his superior officer, who was clearly struggling with the idea of someone else making decisions.

'But if we just…look, take the bearing and go this way!'

'No, Sir! We should go this way!' He was on the verge of stamping his foot again. 'And I'm in charge, the Major said so!'

Mainwaring scowled. He took the point, even if he didn't agree with it.

'Very well. We're following you.'

Suddenly anxious about his decision, Pike hung back to ask Wilson about it.

'But if I'm in charge, we should go that way, shouldn't we?'

'Frank, don't worry about it now. We'll soon find out, and we're here to help if you need us, all right?'

The small party continued over the tufty, windswept grass for nearly an hour, when Sponge caught sight of a camp up ahead.

'Look up there, Pikey, over by those trees – they're up there!'

'It's an ambush!' Pike said, wondering what to do next. If they carried on, they'd all get captured, but maybe if the rest of them hid out in another patch of scrubby trees, he could pick up the stream that was only a couple of miles away now?

'Well then,' Mainwaring asked, folding his arms. 'What do you suggest we do now?'

'Umm…' Pike looked to Wilson for help, but couldn't find any. This was something he had to work out himself.

'Well, see those trees there, you hide in them, and I'll check the route goes down to the stream!'

'You're going to go off on your own?' Mainwaring asked, at about the same time as Wilson said, 'Do you really think that's wise?'

On another day, Pike probably would have listened to them. On another day, it would have been easy to let Mr Mainwaring have his way and get them out of it, but that day, he wanted to prove himself, and this was the one time when he didn't have do what he was told.

'Yes Sir! It's not far, look!'

'But you can't just wander off!' Wilson didn't even want to imagine what Mavis would say if she knew he'd let him roam this bog infested barren wasteland on his own.

'I'm not going to – I'm just going to the stream, and you've got to stay here!'

'Pike! That's enough of that – you listen to what you're being told!'

'But it's my plan, Sir!' He was getting sulky again. 'And if we all go, we'll get captured, so there!'

'Don't you speak to me like that, boy!'

'I'm in charge, though! And I'm not a kid!' The effect was slightly spoiled when Pike did actually stamp his foot this time, but the words rang true. No – he wasn't. The older men both knew of his plans for that ring he'd been saving for, and he would have been out there by now, serving and possibly dying for his country.

'All right then.' Mainwaring subsided. 'But come back as soon as you find it, do you understand?'

'Yes Frank, do hurry back,' Wilson added, clearly concerned.

'Yes Sir!' The enthusiasm was back in his eyes. 'Don't worry; I'll be just like Gary Cooper!'

With that, Pike was gone, map in hand, leaving the rest of the men amongst the trees. He followed the bearing he'd set, and got quite caught up in the story in his head, pretending he was a Pioneer in the old West. He was so focused on the map though, that he didn't notice the creeping mist thicken into a dense fog.

As he realised, panic started to take hold. He was alone, and cold, and the fog made it impossible to tell exactly where he'd come from. He'd get hungry soon too, and what if they never found him? He'd never go home again, never see his Mum or Uncle again…never see Sylvia…That didn't help, and although the fog cleared soon after, he came out of it frightened and confused. Now what would he do?

There was some hope though, as Pike found himself stepping out on to a road. A road had to go somewhere – maybe there was a village around here that would have a phone box, and he could at least call his Mum to tell her he wasn't stuck in a bog again, and then maybe she'd be able to find out the number for the Camp, and they'd come and get him…

A mile or so down the road, things looked even better. Some was parked up there – a truck, with someone leaning over the engine. It looked Military, so it was probably the Marines, out looking for him already. He'd have failed the exercise, of course, but right now, Pike didn't really care.

'Hello!' he called, running up to it. 'I'm here!'

He stopped suddenly as the person in front of him turned round, surprise evident in her features.

'Sylvia? What are you doing here?'


	15. Chapter 15

It hadn't been a good day for Private Hodges, Women's Royal Army Corps. She'd been sent on from Yeovil to go down to the Royal Naval Dockyard in Plymouth with a consignment of radio sets following some of the pokiest little roads across country in an apparent attempt to foil potential Fifth Columnists who could be watching their movements. As if that wasn't enough, she'd broken down, and calling the Motor Transport Pool from the little village shop a couple of miles back had her speaking to a particularly unhelpful Lance Corporal, who was more interested in convincing her to join him at a 'nice little pub just round the corner' when she arrived.

'No, I've got a boyfriend!' She was starting to lose patience at this point.

'Yeah? No ring on your finger,' he said, remembering the time she'd been there before, some months back. 'Fair game 'til he hangs his label on you!'

Shortly after that she'd slammed the phone down and called him something that would probably get her in trouble later, and was still no closer to fixing the van. Sylvia trudged her way back and put the bonnet up, trying to remember her rather limited training. She nearly bumped her head on it when she heard someone behind her.

'Sylvia? What are you doing here?'

'What are you doing here?' Sylvia leaned back slightly against the van, both pleased and confused at seeing him out here in the middle of nowhere.

'We're on a Survival Exercise!' Pike answered excitedly, rushing over to her. 'Only I don't know where everyone is,' he finished, somewhat embarrassed. Seeing her there wasn't helping, as the embarrassment that came from being lost was soon washed over by the awkwardness of what to do next after what happened before. Their current predicaments were forgotten in the same moment as they both remembered, and looked away, suddenly quite shy.

Recovering first, Sylvia pushed herself forward. 'Well? Aren't you going to give me a kiss?'

'What, in uniform?'

'Yeah.' She stood up. 'No-one here…'

'Yeah…all right!' He really couldn't resist her, and it felt strange and exciting to be doing something they really shouldn't, strange too kissing her when she had trousers on. They weren't meant to be in any way attractive, and the few times Pike had seen girls with trousers he'd usually thought it looked a bit odd, but they were nice on her. He'd apparently tried to impress one of those Land Girls that time at the farm, but had far too much potato wine to remember it - they'd clearly preferred Joe anyway.

'What are you doing here, then?' Pike asked again as they broke apart, slightly unnerved that he'd pushed her right back against the engine without really thinking about it. She looked quite hot now, too…far too hot for such a cold day.

'Oh…yeah…' Oh, don't put your hands in your pockets when I'm trying to sound sensible!

'…yeah, I was on the way to Plymouth – got these radios to go down to the Dockyard, and broke down,' Sylvia managed, flicking her eyes from him to the ground and back again. 'If I fiddle about with it though, I should get it working,' she finished, sounding brighter.

'Do you know how?' Most men probably wouldn't like a girl knowing more about cars than he did, but Pike just felt proud of her.

'Sort of…they don't really teach you much in training, but I could try this…' After almost half an hour of more tinkering, Sylvia's persistence was rewarded, and the engine spluttered back to life.

'You did it!' Pike jumped up from where he'd been watching her, and kissed her again.

Stepping back, Sylvia laughed. 'Never thought that talk'd come in handy!' she commented, remembering a lecture from some reluctant local garage owner who wasn't too keen on passing on car maintenance tips to 'girls'.

'Now we can get you back to camp! Come on!'

'Hey, you know those wireless sets?' Pike asked then. 'Why don't we put one in the front? Then we can listen to it on the way!'

Sylvia hesitated briefly. She probably wasn't meant to do that, but he looked so keen she couldn't resist.

'Yeah, all right – you get one, and pass it up!' Did he know he could convince her of anything?

Soon they were on their way, with a bit of 'In The Mood', and hadn't gone much further before Sylvia let her left hand drop as she had that first time, tracing her fingers down his thigh.

'Sylvia! You're at work!' Not that he minded, but she was likely to have the same effect as she had that time now…

Sylvia smiled, a dreamy look on her face as if she knew. 'Yeah…'

A few more miles down the road, the radio signal suddenly crackled, a sharp burst of interference interrupting the show – and the van ground to a halt. Evidently, the problem was more serious than Sylvia thought.

'Oh no…I thought I'd got it!' she groaned in consternation.

'Oh, it'll be all right, look,' Pike said, pointing up the road. 'Is that a farm up there? They might help! Don't know what's wrong with this radio, though,' he added, fiddling with the dials in an attempt to get back on station.

As he did so, another signal cut through the interference. It wasn't a programme though. Neither could understand the guttural accent, but both felt suddenly cold as they realised what it was.

'That's German, isn't it?' Sylvia asked, staring down at the set.

'Yeah. I think so,' Pike replied, thinking of the captured U-Boat crew, and how the Captain had sounded when he told them of his plan.

'Why's it picking up German?'

'Dunno…it's short range – all these sets are short range…'

'So it's someone near here?'

'Yeah…I'm going to go to that farm,' Pike announced. 'They might even have a phone – we better tell someone – you stay here.' In different circumstances, she'd have appreciated her boy's bossy streak so much more, but this wasn't how Sylvia had expected to hear it.

'Yeah – all right.' The broadcast was unsettling her.

The farm turned out to be up a small lane, and Pike was nearly there when he caught sight of two men coming out of the house. He wasn't expecting the revolver, or the salute. In panic and shock, he ducked back around the corner, hoping to be out of sight. The other man returned that same salute – it wasn't funny when it was real, Pike reflected, shaking slightly. It wasn't funny at all.

What were they doing there? It just looked like a normal farm! As one man left, the other took a piece of equipment he'd been given. An aerial, what looked like batteries…he scrambled up, and rushed back to the van.

'It's stopped,' Sylvia said as he came back. 'That message – it stopped when you were gone.' Only then did she notice how he looked. 'What?'

'Sylvia, I think there's Germans…in that house, up the road. I think it's them – on the wireless.'

'What?' Fear tinged her voice. They were both in uniform – if they were Germans, they'd shoot them…certainly if they knew what they'd heard…

'Get in the back.' Pike didn't really know how he would do this, but there might be a way to tune into that net he'd heard the Marines mention in the brief…one of them had been chatting to the Platoon that evening, and on finding a fellow radio enthusiast had told Pike details of the bandwidth and other such technicalities that lost the other men rather quickly, but he'd taken it all in, saying that sounded really interesting…

Pike followed Sylvia into the back of the van, and sat on the cold dusty floor with the radio set between them.

'What are you going to do?' She was both scared and strangely excited.

'Might be able to get through to the Marines!' he explained, an earnest look in his eyes as he spun the dials. That was it, wasn't it?

'Oh, that's me!' Pike said then, proud and relieved to have found the right signal. 'They're out looking for me!'

'Well, that's good – can you talk to them, though?'

'Yeah, should be able to!' He searched about on the shelves and connected something up.

'Hello?' There was some sort of protocol you were meant to follow, but he couldn't remember it just now. 'Is that 22 Company? Okehampton Camp?'

'22 Company, who is this?'

'Private Frank Pike, Walmington on Sea platoon!'

'What? What are you doing on this net – where are you?'

Pike looked at Sylvia. 'That last village was called Lustleigh.'

'Just outside Lustleigh! And near a farm – and I think there's Germans there, Sir!'

'Germans?' Suddenly Mainwaring's voice came over the radio.

'Pike! Are you all right? What do you mean, Germans?'

'Oh, hello Sir!' He'd seldom been so pleased to hear his Commanding Officer's voice. 'Yes – in a farm, near here, armed and everything! I think they're sending messages!'

'Are you sure about this?'

'Well, I don't know if it is them, but I got this signal when we went past, and he had an aerial, Sir – and a gun.'

Just then, the Major came in. 'Private Pike, this is Major Bailey. Don't say anything else, do you understand? Just pass that frequency you heard it on.'

He did as he was told, and the Major continued. 'Right. We can get that checked out. Stay where you are, and we'll be with you shortly. Do not use this net now – it may not be safe. Stay put.'

There was one last crackle of static, and the radio was silent. The young couple looked at one another in the dim light that crept in through the back of the van.

'What do we do now?' Sylvia asked. She was more shaken than she was prepared to admit.

'I'm going to watch him,' Pike announced, making for the door.

'What? He said stay here – that Major said stay here!' she said, pulling at his arm.

'Not going near the house.' He looked more serious than she'd ever seen him. 'Just outside here.'

She watched as Pike pushed the door open and jump down. Once on the ground he took the couple of rounds he had, loading and cocking the rifle previously slung across his back.

'Mr Mainwaring said we always had to carry five rounds each,' he said, by way of explanation. 'Just in case.'

Sylvia could only nod. A strange mix of terror and excitement twisted her stomach as she watched him, clearly risking detection to protect her.

'Stay here,' he said then, still looking unusually serious. There was no question that she would. Closing the door, Sylvia let herself collapse, and drew her knees up, leaning against the side of the van. This was real danger – her heart was racing and she felt slightly sick, but wanted him at the same time. Really not when she would have expected it…the – many – times she'd remembered her birthday, yes, but not like this…

After a while, it started to get cold. Starting to shiver, Sylvia remembered her other consignment – the same scratchy Service issue blankets they had at Catterick – not much, but better than nothing. Crossing the van, she pulled some out, arranging them over the floor and shuffling under one. Considering the circumstances, she then pulled at her tie, dragging it off over her head, and popped a couple of buttons on her shirt. Her hat in a dark corner, she settled back down as best she could, until the first heavy raindrops sounded on the roof above.

There hadn't been any further movement visible from the house. Pike was starting to wonder if he'd been mistaken – that they weren't real Germans, weren't sending messages, but he knew what he saw. The light was starting to fail now though, and it had started to rain. It wouldn't matter, would it, if he just checked on Sylvia for a bit? Surely the Marines wouldn't be too long now? The seeping rain and creeping darkness made the decision for him, and he made his way back to the van.

'Sylvia! You still there?' It was quite dark in there now.

'Yeah.' Waking suddenly from her shallow, disturbed sleep, Sylvia sat up, looking at him.

'You all right? Bit dark in here.'

'Yeah…wait a minute.' She searched through one of the racks at the side of the van, and found a couple of torches. 'Here.'

The van creaked slightly as she heard Pike sit down beside her.

'Is he still there?'

'Dunno – can't see him, but I think so.'

'How long do you think they'll be?' Sylvia asked, referring to the Marines.

'Probably not long.' He didn't really know, and silence fell over them, various tensions and concerns mixing and deepening inside.

'Sylvia…?' He sounded like he was pushing for an answer that he knew he shouldn't really ask. It had been on his mind ever since though, and if there was a chance he'd end up shot by a Nazi spy, he might as well.

'Yeah?'

'You know on your Birthday…?'

'Yeah…' Her voice sounded changed, low and close.

'Well, when I kissed you, and – you know – what happened?'

'When you did this?' Her hand took his, and drew it gently under the blanket and lightly over her breast, making her breathing suddenly sharp. He didn't pull it away this time.

'Yeah…' She was just as perfect as he remembered, and much more of that would make thinking hard…

As her pulse kicked up and breath grew short, Sylvia's anxiety was replaced with determination. She shouldn't do it – funny, he probably thought she was in control – she wasn't. She didn't do this – a kiss and cuddle, a bit of a laugh…that was all it was…all it used to be…He had her, from the moment he'd remembered her name, before even, this was all him…

'D'you really want to know?'

'Yeah…' Pike wasn't sure what she meant, but needed to find out.

Turning to face him, Sylvia's eyes met his, looking just as serious as he had earlier.

'Can I show you?'

'How?' She was sitting up slightly now, over him. Her breasts were just about level with his eyes, and the sliver of light from the torch beam shone down the valley of her unbuttoned shirt. Trying not to stare down it was proving difficult.

'I don't really know,' Sylvia admitted, suddenly unsure. The change in her voice made him look up. Not many people saw his bold, brassy girlfriend like this.

Their gaze met. She saw curiosity and interest in his eyes.

'What d'you mean?'


End file.
